


The Wise Words (of a not-so-wise person)

by sleeptalkingjr



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, Brief references to homophobia, Childhood Friends, Childhood Memories, Crushes, Didn't Know They Were Dating, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Falling In Love, Feelings, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Side Seungjin, Unrequited Crush, brief references to anxiety, painful and sad at times i'm sorry, side minsung
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-09
Updated: 2019-07-09
Packaged: 2020-06-25 11:30:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 27,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19744843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleeptalkingjr/pseuds/sleeptalkingjr
Summary: Seo Changbin has been hopelessly in love with Hwang Hyunjin, his neighbour and best friend, for as long as he can remember.But when Hyunjin suddenly moves away, and ‘thief’ Lee Felix moves into the house he leaves behind, things begin to change.





	1. Operation “Get-Hyunjin-To-Like-Changbin-Back”

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Stray_Cupcake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stray_Cupcake/gifts).



> hi everyone! this is the last fic i will be posting for a while unfortunately, so please give it the love it deserves! i tried especially hard with this one and enjoyed writing it, especially since it is for my BEST FRIEND user Stray_Cupcake on here who is an incredible writer and has her own soft and lovely stray kids fics you should all read!
> 
> enjoy some painful, beautiful and fluffy changlix :3

The option Changbin finally settles for is to give into his burning curiosity and poke his head out the window. His other option, almost just as appealing and inviting: to simply hide under the bed, and wait until the knock and the offerings of rice cakes or meat to make his existence known to the neighbours.

Not that he’d very much like to get caught right now, a scrunched up face pressed up against the glass, eyes swollen and squinted in the striking sunlight. He positions himself carefully, mindful of the possibility of getting caught, whilst examining his new neighbours with a certain faint tinge of spite lacing his tongue.

The woman closest to him is short and sunny. Beside her, two girls—one towering over the group like a beanstalk, the other mirroring her mother’s dazzling smile—bump into each other and chatter.

Their eyes shine.

Slowly, Changbin’s own slide past them.

*

_“Excuse me?”_

_Changbin’s head jolts upwards._

_The boy beside him, all scrawny limbs and a shy, cheery smile, giggles and waves._

_Changbin blinks._

_“Were you busy? Sorry—I just—” The boy gestures behind him, hands slippery and graceful albeit tentative and eager._

_Changbin follows his long, pointed finger._

_When he returns his gaze, the boy’s nose is barely a centimetre away from his, and his eyes are shimmering crescents; his lips are curled into a wide, ludicrous smile._

_“Can you push me on the swings, please?”_

*

Hyunjin’s face—vivid and bright—makes Changbin’s eyes narrow and water.

He tugs the curtains, huffing, and crawls back into bed.

*

When the knock _does_ eventually come, it takes Changbin a great deal of effort to drag himself out of bed and plod downstairs.

The door opens to the summery woman, dressed in a flowery gown and a blinding expression.

Changbin’s heartbeat stutters: he’s glad it wasn’t the boy.

“Hello,” the woman chirps.

Changbin smiles, hoping to disguise his reluctance with a mask of timidity.

“We’ve just moved in next door—I thought—before we start unpacking—” She brandishes a box of rice cakes, which Changbin accepts with the same tight, rigid smile.

He’s careful not to close the door too loudly behind her.

*

Changbin’s mum is home.

She’s noticed the neighbours.

“Didn’t take them long to move in, huh, Changbin?” she hums, nose glued permanently to the window.

Changbin grumbles, endeavouring fruitlessly to become one with the sofa.

His mother briefly peels herself off the glass to scrunch up her face at him.

“What did you do?”

He scowls into the pillow.

“Changbin.”

“Nothing. They got you rice cakes.”

His mother beams. She trails into the kitchen; exclaims with joy at the sight.

Changbin sighs.

He wonders if he’d rather do some homework than get dragged to the neighbour’s house.

*

Yep, he’d rather do some homework.

Oh, how _lovely_ homework sounds right now.

Deafening—especially in this _awful_ silence muffling the air in the neighbour’s living room, forcing Changbin’s fingers to knot together once, twice, three times, as he sighs again and again, pupils darting to his vacant phone before flicking vaguely to the blonde boy’s bright eyes.

The blonde boy, he decides, is very, very frustrating. He won’t say anything, won’t try to break the silence—just keeps ogling him with a big dumb grin plastered onto his face.

Changbin, inwardly, grumbles.

Then at last—“Cookie?” the boy asks, shoving the plate into Changbin’s face with an irritatingly, oddly adorable yet sheepish expression etched onto his.

But it isn’t the action of plate-shoving—or that dumb, cute face—that makes Changbin’s eyes widen and brows arch high on his forehead. No, it’s the fact that this boy, literally, sounds like he is exhibiting his best, comprehensible whale impression—like he actually swallowed a whale. 

Essentially: his voice is deep as hell.

So deep, that Changbin must wonder: Is this how this boy tries to impress the best friends of the owners of the houses he steals? In which case, he’s definitely impressed; but he refuses, stubbornly, to let it change the fact he is going to convince this whale he is mute.

Thus, he accepts the cookie, crunches on it with mild satisfaction he doesn’t allow to paint his face, and continues burning holes into the thief’s carpet with his eyes.

The boy swallows.

*

“What do you think of our neighbours, Changbinnie?” Changbin’s mother hums, as she stores yet another box of rice cakes (does that boy’s mother own a rice cake shop or something? Seriously) in the cupboard and turns to gawk at him expectantly.

Changbin merely shrugs, trudging to his bedroom.

“I have work to do,” he mutters.

He shuts the door and the curtains.

*

The boy has an accent.

Changbin remembers—suddenly, in the middle of an attempt (that takes almost half an hour) to remember what on earth Fleming is. He slams his textbook close, and groans, frustrated and furious.

He can’t help but miss Hyunjin, so much so he thinks he might hate the boy who speaks Kangaroo.

*

_“Hey. You look familiar.”_

_Changbin averts his eyes._

_The boy—Hyunjin—explodes with glee abruptly, making some invisible, amazingly strong force launch Changbin some ten feet into the air._

_And when Changbin thinks he can’t possibly imagine the situation getting any worse, the boy leaps onto him and …_ hugs _him._

_Hyunjin is hugging Changbin._

*

“Where are you from?”

The boy—Felix, according to Changbin’s mother—jolts his head, apparently stunned Changbin really isn’t mute.

He doesn’t know whether to feel offended or touched.

“Oh, uh—Australia.” Felix grins that dumb grin of his; Changbin pushes down a sigh. “We moved here from there, actually.”

 _Explains the pronunciation,_ Changbin thinks of sneering, but doesn’t. He nods, then winces.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.”

Changbin hates himself for making everything so awkward.

He tries to inhale a cushion.

*

When Changbin is finally freed from the prison next door, he races back into his room, shuts the door tight and pulls on his headphones.

Hyunjin’s favourite song plays, softly, agonisingly.

Changbin’s eyelids flutter close like butterfly wings, and he listens.

*

Right.

The window.

Changbin forgot about that.

He tries his best to mask his irritation when a painfully (very painfully) familiar face materialises in the glass, flushed lightly but glossy with Felix’s natural summery glow.

 _Piss off,_ Changbin wants to mouth, but his fake smile only widens and tightens, as he even manages a rigid wave.

It’s a mistake. He’s stupid.

Because Felix has opened his window—and is gesturing for Changbin to do the same.

*

_Hyunjin falls on his face._

_“Oh. Uh—ow.”_

_“Dummy.”_

_Hyunjin peels his face off the floor and grins. Changbin’s chest tightens; he sighs and rolls his eyes._

_But then Hyunjin is whining and wailing and clutching at his nose and Changbin sighs again, clambering out of bed and dragging the dramatic boy to his feet._

_“You’re not very good at climbing through windows,” he remarks dryly._

_Hyunjin pouts. “Well, Seo Changbin, it’s my first time.”_

_“I know.”_

_“So you could be nice.”_

_“Pros don’t pity amateurs.”_

_Hyunjin pushes him._

_Changbin snorts and they both giggle._

*

The first thought that flashes brightly like a neon red sign in Changbin’s head is— _Don’t open the bloody window._ Ignore it. Pretend it doesn’t exist. Same with the boy. Do _not_ acknowledge the boy.

But Changbin isn’t very good at listening to his thoughts.

Chest heaving, he plods towards the window, hesitates, then pulls it open.

Felix’s deep voice erupts in welcome—“Hey! Our bedroom windows are—”

“Yeah. I know.” Changbin feels his expression darkening.

The boy doesn’t notice.

He scrambles into Changbin’s room without even checking to see if Changbin’s okay with it (and no, he is not: he is _definitely_ not) and lands neatly on his feet, smile never wavering. It illuminates the dim, dreary room with an impressive brilliance Changbin traces back to Felix’s mother.

Changbin settles back at his desk and fiddles with his headphones; Felix explores.

“What are these?”

Changbin sighs. “Lyrics.”

“Lyrics?”

“Song lyrics,” Changbin repeats, slower.

Felix scrunches up his nose, evaluating the mound of notebooks. He looks deep in thought for a few seconds, contemplative and calculating, and Changbin—with another resigned sigh—doesn’t try to snap him out of his daze. He looks cute like this, anyway.

And he’s not running his mouth off. That’s the most important—

“What do you have lyrics for?”

 _For the love of—_ “I write.”

Felix’s eyes light up. His entire face shimmers, expanding and glowing like a sun on the brink of explosion. “You write? Songs?”

“Yes, songs. I write—”

“That’s so cool!”

Changbin’s smile is strained. “Thanks—”

“I write too.” Felix flushes. He bites his lip, wincing, and looks as though he’s—uselessly—struggling to swallow down his next sentence. To no one’s surprise, he fails: “I— Well, I really like music. Listening to it. And writing. But, my—my mum would rather I swim.”

“You swim?” Changbin hates himself for prolonging the conversation, but curiosity and the vivid image of Felix’s golden body propelling through aquamarine pool water singes his retina and his brain.

He coughs.

Felix bites his lip again. “Yes. I won a lot of medals back in Australia.”

“Cool.” Changbin grimaces and returns his attention to his desk.

He has a lot of schoolwork, he remembers.

*

Felix is content to leave Changbin be after a brief description of the area is given. He’s especially relieved to know there’s a large shopping centre nearby, as well as satisfied with the neighbouring sports centre.

“My mum’ll enrol me into the swim classes,” he notes, struggling with the pronunciation. He says the words almost to himself as he lifts a finger to his lips.

Changbin nods.

Felix’s hands are small.

*

Changbin would rather be anywhere than here.

He’d rather be in his bedroom, at school, on a boat, inside a volcano, in outer space without a helmet on—anywhere, _anywhere_.

Anywhere but here: with his mother nestled beside him on the neighbours’ sofa, chatting her face off; opposite Felix’s two sisters, and mother; diagonal to Felix himself; and beneath a very loud, very infuriating clock, to top it all off.

His frown deepens with every deafening _tick_.

“You see, we were surprised when a new family moved in so quickly,” Changbin’s mother blabbers, a smile plastered onto her face. “Really surprised. Weren’t we, Binnie?”

Changbin swallows down a scowl.

“Ah, yes—the family that lived next door, they’d lived there for quite some time. Even longer than us, in fact. We thought they’d never leave.”

_Stop talking._

“Oh, really?” Felix’s mother chuckles.

Changbin glances at her daughters.

They’re staring at him.

“Yes, yes, we were all very close. And then they just moved away all of a sudden. It was quite odd: they barely spoke with us about it. Even Changbin here, his friend, the son—Seokjin? Was that his name?”

“Hyunjin.” Changbin grits his teeth.

Felix’s freckles darken.

“Hyunjin! Ah, that boy. You two were very close, weren’t you, Binnie? You even went to the same school since you were toddlers! Adorable, really, yet the boy barely mentioned anything about—”

Changbin gets up to head for the bathroom.

Felix follows.

*

“Leave me alone.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“I’m going to the bathroom.”

“I’m going to my room.”

Changbin glares at the boy; Felix stares back, levelly.

And then he starts, “Do you wanna talk about—” and Changbin slams the door shut between them.

*

One day later, Felix and his mum visit.

And Felix is persistent.

“So. Hyunjin.”

Changbin narrows his eyes.

His response, irritatingly, seems to spark some odd blaze of delight in Felix, whose trademark grin appears as he teases, “You like him?”

“Shut up,” Changbin growls, hating how red he’s gone.

“It’s so obvious.”

“Is not.”

Felix rolls his eyes.

A comfortable … sort of, silence pursues, and hangs in the air like a glitterball for a moment. It casts vague spots of light across the room that expand into pools Changbin wishes he could drown himself in.

He really, _really_ does not want to be talking to Felix about Hyunjin right now.

“You miss him?”

Changbin doesn’t respond.

Felix sighs—but seems to get the message. He wanders over to Changbin’s bed, crawling onto it and admiring the stash of CDs beside it.

 _Good,_ Changbin thinks to himself, heart thudding in his chest. _Now forget about Hyunjin and play with the damn CDs._

*

Apparently, he wasn’t thinking loud enough.

“You don’t have a lot of romantic songs here,” Felix remarks. “They’re all so depressing. No wonder Hyunjin—”

_“Shut—”_

Changbin stops.

Felix stares at him, brows furrowed. His eyes shimmer with concern.

Changbin bites his lip and returns his focus to the computer.

“Sorry. That was a joke. I didn’t know.”

“It’s okay,” Felix says lightly.

The wind whistles for a moment.

Felix shuts the window after he leaves.

*

_“Changbin.”_

_Changbin’s eyelids flutter open, and his entire body jerks upwards. A shadow is at the end of his bed, anonymous if Changbin didn’t know Hyunjin’s voice so well._

_His body is crumpled and crouched and folded._

_Changbin watches him, tentative. “Did you come in through the window?” he croaks, unsure and nervous suddenly._

_Hyunjin lifts his head._

_Changbin turns on his bedside lamp._

_“Changbin, I think—I think—”_

_“It’s okay. Take your time, Hyunjin.” Changbin is trying to mimic what they always say, when he’s breathing fast and fighting back a scream and his heartbeat is frenzied and his vision is blurred and red._

_Hyunjin crawls beside him and wraps his arms around him._

_Changbin hugs him back, dutifully._

_“Changbin, have you ever had a crush on a girl?”_

_The boy blinks rapidly. That wasn’t—definitely wasn’t—what he’d been expecting: rash emotion, as opposed to … peculiar feeling. He can’t really explain it._

_Basically, Hyunjin isn’t thrashing about like a toddler having a tantrum about nothing._

_Like Changbin, sometimes._

_He’s talking about … girls?_

_“I—” Changbin doesn’t really think about this stuff a lot. He feels bad about not being able to help. “What about you?” he switches instead._

_Hyunjin’s grip on Changbin tightens, and he’s trembling all over._

_“No, Changbin,” he whispers, terror laced through every syllable. “Not girls.”_

*

Changbin can’t sleep.

*

“Hyunjin didn’t like girls.”

Felix’s eyes brighten. He looks even happier now than when it was Changbin’s turn to beckon him into his room.

He clasps his hands together. “He didn’t?”

In Changbin’s mind, Hyunjin’s crouched, sobbing shadow stretches and screams.

He winces and nods. “No. He didn’t.”

“Then that’s perfect!”

Changbin furrows his brows. “What is?”

Felix grins. He straightens, clears his throat, and announces to the world: “Ready to win over the man you love?”

Changbin face crumples; he groans: “Do you _have_ to make it cringey though?”

Felix beams. “It’s part of the job description.”

Changbin muses, “Your vocabulary’s great for a foreigner. Done this before, have you?”

“I wouldn’t ask questions.” Felix winks; Changbin sighs. “Now. First off—”

“No makeovers.”

Felix waves an airy hand. “Nah. You don’t need one.”

 _You bet I don’t._ “Glad to know we’re on the same page.” Changbin smirks.

Felix smiles and rolls his eyes.

*

_“You have a very big nose.”_

_Changbin snorts. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”_

_“According to most twelve-year-old boys.”_

_That earns him a great big shove—but he only laughs._

_Changbin’s cheeks colour and darken: he ducks his head down in a futile attempt to hide his mortified expression._

_Hyunjin pinches his crimson cheeks._

*

“You’re blanking out again.”

“Leave me alone.”

Felix smirks. “You’re thinking about him.”

Changbin retrieves the pillow, only to shove it back into Felix’s face. Felix giggles: the sound reminds him of Hyunjin’s own chuckle, the similarity so stark Changbin’s stomach knots painfully.

He blinks rapidly, and clears his throat.

“Are we gonna get this crap over with or not?”

Felix beams.

*

“Okay. Step One. _The Smile_.”

Changbin sighs: he almost face-palms. “You’re kidding.”

Felix’s smile doesn’t falter, as though he hasn’t yet understood why Changbin’s expression is so incredulous. Or, maybe he hasn’t.

No—he definitely hasn’t.

Changbin exhales again.

“Okay. Fine. What’s _The Smile_?”

“Well,” Felix clasps his hands together, gushing excitedly. “The most important part about Step One is: smiling more.”

“Smiling more?”

“Mhm.”

“Felix, do you know who I am?”

“Yes.” Felix smiles brightly. Changbin’s hand itches to shelter his eyes. “I do. Why do you think Step One exists?”

*

Felix is clearly an expert in the field of ‘smiling’. He grins every two seconds, blinding every passerby or neighbour or creature in sight; in fact, his beam seems permanently glued to his face. It’s odd to see him looking anything other than goofy or happy or grinning his face off, and so when (as part of the ‘therapy session’, apparently) he mimics Changbin’s own gloomy appearance, it takes the other boy by quite a lot of surprise.

“You look awful.”

“I look like a thundercloud.”

Changbin huffs. “Thunder is cool.”

“No. Scary,” Felix corrects him, practically shuddering, and Changbin can’t help but smirk at the comical image of Felix hiding under a blanket for shelter from a roaring cloud.

“What if I want to be scary?”

“And scare away Hyunjin? Real clever.”

Changbin pouts.

*

“Okay, but I thought this Step was about smiling _more_ , not—just smiling. I know how to smile, F— _ow!_ ”

“Sorry,” Felix murmurs sheepishly, finally letting go of Changbin’s cheeks.

Changbin rubs them sullenly. “You pinch like a grandma.”

“Do not!”

“I know how to smile.”

“Then do it more often.”

Changbin glances away sourly.

There’s a knock at the door. Both boys’ heads swivel as their eyes land on Changbin’s mother, a petite woman taking up no more than a quarter of the doorframe. She smiles at Felix. “Your mother and I are going out for a walk.” And then she glares at Changbin. “Behave.”

The door latches shut behind her.

Felix speaks up.

“I have an idea.”

*

After what seems like an eternity of silent arguing and light—but firm—shoving, Changbin is finally forced into the café, eyes wide, cheeks already rosy with humiliation and terror, and arms stiff by his sides. The café is bustling and warm, ornamented with a low drone of chatter and a dozen shiny faces. Changbin feels the temperature of the café jump a few degrees, and a few more when his eyes land on the boy behind the counter—cap lowered, expression focused and frantic, and a nametag decorated, clearly, scruffily, with the name: _Han Jisung_.

Changbin’s heartbeat stutters.

He swallows.

 _Just smile at the damn boy and get the heck out of here,_ Changbin growls at himself in his mind, failing to mask his shaking. A waitress he doesn’t recognise sees him—and he staggers immediately towards the counter.

Jisung isn’t taking anybody’s orders. Instead, he’s busy wiping down the counter, puffing his cheeks and struggling.

Changbin’s ears flame. Alarmed, he twists around, eyes darting around the room, desperately searching for Felix.

This wasn’t part of the plan.

*

“H-hello? Uh—” Changbin swears, as quietly as he can manage.

Jisung’s head, slightly, lifts.

Changbin’s heart thuds in his throat: he hates childhood crushes, seriously, he does.

“Yeah?” Jisung responds, sounding mildly irritated—either at Changbin, or at the blotchy stain of some alien substance on the counter that refuses to disappear.

Jisung curses—loudly, unlike Changbin.

Changbin’s heartbeat quickens.

“Would you like to order?”

 _It’s the cue, Changbin, come on—do it, you can do it, just_ smile _, come on, you can do it, you can—_

“Uh.” Jisung’s entire face creases with bewilderment and concern—not exactly the reaction Changbin was anticipating. “You okay there?”

_Oh, for the love of God._

Changbin ducks his face down, mortified. “I just wanted some tissue,” he murmurs to his feet, pushing down his nausea.

“At the back.”

“Thanks.”

Changbin nods.

He bolts out of the café.

*

“That was awful. That was—that was the worst—”

“Maybe we shouldn’t’ve tested it the first time on someone you barely know,” Felix muses, tapping his chin.

Changbin stares at him, incredulous. “Excuse me? ‘The first time’? You mean—I’m not doing—” he starts, then swallows down the second half of the sentence forcefully, when he spies Felix’s wide eyes.

“You’re gonna give up?”

Changbin turns away. “That’s not what I meant.”

“It is.”

“Is not.”

“Is—”

“Whatever, it doesn’t matter if I meant it or not.” Changbin gets to his feet, storming towards his computer. “We’ll try it again, is that what you want?”

“It’s not about me, Changbin,” Felix speaks to his back.

Changbin pulls on his headphones and scowls.

*

_“Hey, you.”_

_Changbin stops. His eyes widen, blood pounding in his ears as he spins to face Han Jisung. “Yes?”_

_“Are you Hyunjin’s friend?”_

_Changbin blinks rapidly, cheeks tinging. He’s never spoken to Jisung, only heard about him from Hyunjin, and occasionally spotted him at lunch. He’s shorter than Changbin thought he looked from a distance, but even cuter. His eyes are round and teeth poke out and he looks generally harmless—almost pitiful._

_But Changbin remembers, clearly, Hyunjin staggering home with a black eye._

_Changbin clears his throat. “I am.”_

_“Tell him to chill. Your friend’s very dramatic, you know that? It pisses me off.”_

You piss him off, too, _Changbin thinks he’s supposed to say. He’s supposed to scoff or spit at Han Jisung, and yet he can’t bring himself to._

_He blinks._

_Jisung waves a hand in his face. “Hey, are you listening to me?”_

_Changbin goes redder. “I—I am—”_

_“Whatever.” Jisung rolls his eyes. “What are you, six? You’re tiny.”_

_Is it possible to flush purple? Despite himself, Changbin stutters, “I’m fourteen. I’m older than you.”_

_“You? Fourteen?” Jisung snorts. “Tell Hyunjin to piss off. Don’t wanna either of your faces again, alright?” He shoves past Changbin and stomps towards Lee Minho, who raises a brow._

_Changbin lowers his head. He makes a mental note to stay away from Han Jisung, and Lee Minho as well._

_*_

_“Is it true? Did Jisung really—”_

_“Hyunjin, please don’t do anything,” Changbin begs. “Don’t—don’t fight him or anything, please.”_

_Hyunjin scoffs. “What? Are you taking his side?”_

_“I’m not.” Changbin reddens, then inhales sharply. “As much as it flatters me, two kids fighting because of—”_

_“You self-centred ass.”_

_Changbin sniggers. Then he goes quiet, glancing around him. Infected by adolescence, Hyunjin’s room has gotten messier recently, clothes draped across his desk and bedside table and door and bed; everything misplaced; and a particular … stench floating about in the air. Changbin wrinkles up his nose, considers asking Hyunjin if he uses deodorant, then deciding against it._

_“What’re you looking for?”_

_“Your dignity.”_

_Hyunjin snorts. He hugs Changbin, and Changbin tries not to choke because of the smell. “Sorry I keep getting into trouble.”_

_“Yeah, yeah. You’re becoming a teenager.”_

_“I’ll avoid Jisung from now on, I promise.”_

_Changbin smiles. The smell has gone away._

*

“Your room’s neater than I expected.”

Felix’s head jolts up, eyes wide and startled for a few seconds, before he seems to adjust, and beams. He waves at the boy only a few metres away from him. “Hey! I forgot you can get into my room, too…”

Changbin scans the room and purses his lips, squinting at a few postcards on Felix’s bedside table: definitely sent from the Land of Kangaroos.

There’s a couple of posters adorning the wall, slightly peeled at the edges, of foreign artists Changbin doesn’t recognise.

There’s also a shelf of trophies.

“Swimming,” Felix explains, almost absentmindedly.

Changbin nods and sinks into a cushion opposite Felix’s bed, where his neighbour sits.

“What’s Step Two?” he asks, trying not to appear so desperate, and not so grouchy at the same time.

Felix blinks; then grins.

*

“Rice cakes.”

Changbin stares at Felix. “Eating them?”

Felix sighs, rolling his eyes. He stands on the tips of his toes to fish through the kitchen cupboards, whistling and plucking ingredients from them. Changbin’s gaze is still vacant. His eyelashes flutter as Felix finishes, beaming.

“ _Making_ rice cakes—as a gift!” he confirms Changbin’s startling suspicions, singing the words as though they were going on a trip or he’d just announced he’d bought Changbin a cruise or something. Fun. He sounds like he thinks he thinks this is going to be _fun_.

Changbin scoffs. “You want me to make rice cakes?”

“Yes,” Felix chirps. He pauses, blinking at the table festooned with ingredients.

Something tells Changbin this isn’t Felix’s second, or third, or fourth, time making rice cakes. He snorts. “Felix. Have you ever cooked or baked before?”

Felix whirls on him. “Who said I haven’t?”

“It’s written all over your face.” Changbin grins.

Felix’s eyes widen. He pokes one of his own cheeks, which has gone slightly rosy with embarrassment, before ducking his head down in shame. He shifts his weight from one foot to the other. When he raises his eyes again to meet Changbin’s almost narrowed ones, his expression is sheepish.

“Well…”

“You expect me to make rice cakes when you’ve never done it yourself?”

“My mum always makes rice cakes, though,” Felix whines. “I’ve seen it loads of times. How hard can it be?”

 _A hundred times harder than you think, clearly._ Incredulous, Changbin rolls his eyes.

*

Several minutes later, Googling a recipe proves—obviously—much more useful than Felix’s stuttering memory and instructions. Changbin takes the lead, surprising neither of the boys, and at one point Felix makes a joke about Changbin making rice cakes _with_ Hyunjin next time “to re-enact _this_ —” and stands behind Changbin, pretending to guide his arms.

Changbin blinks rapidly, oddly flustered. He recoils from Felix’s grasp and steps away, face red. He clears his throat as Felix stares, a grin threatening to tug at his mouth. “You— Hyunjin and I can’t do that,” he stammers.

Felix tilts his head to the side, smiling. Changbin wants to tear the smile off his stupid goofy face. “Really? Why not? Too shy?” Felix jeers.

 _Shy, my butt._ Changbin scowls. “No, you idiot. Hyunjin burns down more kitchens then faulty appliances do.”

“Reckless,” Felix muses, tone almost dream-like.

Changbin aims a bottle of food colouring at Felix’s face as a warning.

*

“I thought these Steps were supposed to increase in difficulty?”

“That’s correct.”

Changbin cocks a brow. “You seriously think winking is harder than making rice cakes?”

Felix’s response is, simply, to raise an eyebrow back. He folds his arms. “Don’t believe me? Go ahead, then. Wink.”

For some reason, Changbin doesn’t.

Instead, he flushes.

“See?”

“Hey—no!” he exclaims, flustered, perplexed and irritated at himself. He covers his face, clearing his throat. “I was—thinking of Hyunjin.”

“But your face didn’t do The Thing.”

Changbin blinks.

“The what?”

This time it’s Felix’s turn to blush. His entire face darkens, scarlet spreading across his cheeks like raspberry jam—hiding his freckles. He twists away, clearing his throat. “You know. You, like … I can’t say it in Korean.”

“Liar.”

“I’m not _lying_ ,” Felix whines. “Now stop changing the subject. Wink!”

Changbin rolls his eyes. “Fine,” he huffs, sitting up straighter and clearing his throat. He pauses for a second, and then blinks both his eyes.

Felix scoffs.

“I— That was a test run!”

“A what?”

“Here, I’ll do it properly.” Changbin inhales. He straightens his back. He takes a deep breath … and blinks. And blinks again. And again.

Felix guffaws. He falls off the bed, screaming with laughter, kicking his legs in the air and howling—cheeks moist with tears.

Changbin glowers at him, launching a pillow and scrambling towards the mirror in Felix’s room.

“I _can_ wink,” he fools no one, pouting after several failed attempts.

Deciding to give up, he groans and leaps onto his bed, nearly breaking it in the process.

Changbin’s mother heaves the door open, abruptly. Felix freezes; Changbin gulps. “Why the yelling? You boys want the neighbours complaining again? First you nearly burn the kitchen, and now you want to break beds and eardrums?”

The boys flush. Changbin’s mother rolls her eyes.

“Sorry, m—”

“Changbin’s mum, did you like our rice cakes?” Felix hums, beaming proudly and excitedly at the woman in the doorway, who blinks rapidly and ogles the boy with confusion and disbelief.

Changbin facepalms.

“The rice cakes you made yesterday?” she says, slowly.

“Yes, those!” Felix’s nodding is, as per usual, rapid and enthusiastic. “Weren’t they delicious?”

“I don’t think—” Changbin’s mother splutters, forcing Changbin to hide a materialising grin behind a pillow. His mother, frankly, is never rendered at a loss for words: Felix has achieved an impossible—with his incredible albeit endearing stupidity. “I don’t think ‘delicious’ is the word I would use,” the woman concludes, embarrassed. She shuffles out of the room before Felix can respond.

*

_The boys know they’ve messed up when the pan starts to hiss. It was sizzling before—it was supposed to be doing that, Changbin had said, although his confidence was merely an act—but now the pan hisses like a venomous, furious snake threatening to explode into flames and erupt like a ferocious volcano._

_Changbin gulps._

_“Dude!” Hyunjin cries out, grabbing onto Changbin as though he were a lifeboat in the middle of a treacherous ocean. Changbin gawks at him, takes in the glorious sight of his petrified face. “Dude, what the heck do we do? Hey!”_

_“Uh.” Truthfully, Changbin does not know. He knows something else though—that he and Hyunjin are definitely getting their asses kicked tonight._

_“I think we should call the fire brigade.”_

*

 _“You did_ what _?”_

*

Several minutes into the k-drama, Changbin decides he’s had enough. Sure, he appreciates the attempt at constructing an enjoyable plot, but the clichéd nature of the programme—already agonisingly palpable in the first few moments of the first episode—is making him want to rip his hair out. And Felix’s.

But Felix’s hair is too fluffy for that.

“Why are you making me watch this?” Changbin blurts out, ignoring his suspicion that this has something to do with Step Four.

Felix’s eyes dart towards his face, slightly wide for some reason, but twinkling as per usual. He points at the main lead, a conventionally handsome man with dark hair and a permanent scowl. (“He looks like you,” Felix said when the episode started. Changbin didn’t know whether to blush or frown at him—although the latter option would just prove Felix’s point.) “You see what he’s doing? He’s trying to get her attention.”

Changbin scoffs. “He knocked all those books out of her—” he starts, wondering at first how on earth that could be an effective method to get somebody’s attention, then realising. His eyes bulge: he gapes at Felix. “ _That?_ You want me to do that?”

“You’re so quiet around other people,” Felix explains, almost in a matter-of-fact way, like he’s known Changbin for years. “It’s an easy way of getting people to notice you if you don’t wanna talk, don’t you agree?”

“Felix, I’d rather talk than—”

“Besides, if you knocked his books out of his hand—” Felix pauses to gesture to the screen. The young man scrambles to his knees, scooping up the flustered girl’s textbooks into her hands. She makes an odd squeaking noise which makes Changbin roll his eyes, but his heart keeps slamming at his ribcage.

“Okay,” he chokes out. “I get it. Chivalry.” He smirks when Felix blinks, expression vacant. “Like being a gentleman.”

“Oh.” Felix’s face darkens as he blushes. He clears his throat: “See, now you’re getting it!”

“Hyunjin would smack my head if I dropped his books.”

“It’s an affectionate gesture.”

“Doubt that.”

“Anyway.” Felix gets to his feet. He hurries out of the room; disappears for several moments; curses a few times (in English, mostly) upstairs in his room as a result of several _thuds_ ; and finally returns, balancing a stack of books precariously in his arms.

Changbin squints. “Is that … an encyclopaedia? Who even has those things anymore?”

“My mother, apparently.” Felix hands it, as well as a few other books, to Changbin, who hesitates before accepting the ‘gifts’. He exclaims in shock at how heavy they are, almost losing his balance as Felix sniggers and rolls his eyes. “Now. Allow me to demonstrate.”

Changbin’s eyes bulge. “Um, actually, that won’t be ne— _ow!_ ”

Felix grins as Changbin scowls. The shorter boy rubs his arm, still wincing. He glances down at the pile of scattered books on the ground, then glares at Felix. “You pushed hard on purpose.”

“Did not.”

“Did—” He pauses to watch Felix kneel, eyes widening, cheeks darkening … but then they purple when he remembers—with a great deal of embarrassment mixed with relief—that Felix is only retrieving the books.

With ease, Felix scoops up the books into his arms. He gazes up at Changbin, who is still purple in the face, and smiles. Changbin’s heart flutters.

Mortified, he refuses to accept the books back. “Hyunjin’s a whole drama queen. He’ll collapse to the ground if a feather lands on him.”

“I doubt—”

“Skipping this Step,” Changbin growls, turning on his heel to stalk out of the room.

“Wait—” Felix endeavours to call out, except Changbin has already stomped out of the house in a blushing mess.

*

Changbin stares at himself in the mirror. He picks at his leather jacket; prods at the cap; gawks at the bright red flaming trainers squeezed onto his feet.

He chokes and slams his fist into the bathroom door. “Felix! Hey! I am _not_ wearing—”

“Let me see!” a wail answers, seemingly oblivious of his humiliation and rage.

He sighs with frustration, glancing back at the mirror and pushing a hand through his hair and scowling. He looks ridiculous. Like a little kid trying to be … like his biker role model from the seventies. What the heck was Felix thinking, yanking these off a rack and shoving them into Changbin’s reluctant grasp?

His fingers hover over the doorknob and hesitate; quiver; lower, gently.

Felix exclaims with surprise.

*

Three outfits later, Changbin decides he’d very much like to skip Step Five—or, at least, the ‘buying’ part.

“How about we look in your closet, then?” Felix proposes, already marching towards it before Changbin can agree.

“It’s not very glamorous,” Changbin admits, and then he blushes bright ruby red at an image that flings itself at him.

*

_“You look cute. Weird. Never thought you would look good in a suit.”_

_Changbin narrows his eyes. “Of course I look good in a suit. I’m Changbin.”_

_“I predicted that first sentence a little differently.” Hyunjin smirks._

_“Well, your prediction was wrong.”_

_Hyunjin rolls his eyes, grinning, and links arms with Changbin before dragging him around the park. The breeze is cool and the sky is painted in breath-taking hues of amber and cyan which Changbin admires in a brief, vague haze—because his eyes are too distracted by Hyunjin’s own shimmering ones, scanning the park for a quiet spot. Family gatherings have never been Changbin’s favourite sport, particularly not the family gatherings of his best friend—specifically, Hyunjin’s aunt’s wedding. Despite how well he knows his best friend, Changbin can’t figure out whether or not Hyunjin is also uncomfortable—or maybe bored?—or he pities Changbin, because he’s searching for a place for them to be alone and talk and giggle and pretend there’s no wedding, no aunt or family and it’s just the two of them._

_Finally, Hyunjin finds a clearing surrounded by blue flowers._

*

“You really do this often, huh?”

“Shut _up_ ,” Changbin grumbles, glowering at his feet. A pair of jeans materialise there, as well as one of his favourite shirts; a belt; and his best trainers. “Hyunjin’s seen me in these clothes before, though,” Changbin remarks, frowning a little.

When he looks up, Felix’s face is cloudy and peculiar. “I haven’t.”

*

The look is simple, casual, accustomed but it must be regular—those are Felix’s words, spoken in a professional tone that forces Changbin to swallow a snigger. Felix cocks his brow before gesturing in a direction which Changbin follows with his eyes.

He crawls after Felix into the boy’s bedroom.

“What? Some clothes you got that I get to steal?” Changbin cracks a grin, remembering the nickname _Thief_ with an air of humour for a second. However, he quickly remembers the origin of the name—and it’s enough to make him blink away his laughter and shut up.

Felix drops an oddly shaped bag on the bed. Changbin blinks at it; looks up.

“What is it?”

Felix smiles.

“Open it and see.”

The bag is a silvery colour, appearing translucent—yet Changbin can’t make out its contents. He takes a deep breath before unzipping the bag, and peeking inside.

He screams at the sight—toppling off the bed.

Felix blinks.

“You want me to wear _makeup_?” Changbin bellows, eyes wide with shock and terror and bewilderment.

Felix’s own eyes bulge, flashing with the same emotions, but for a different reason. He purses his lips and takes out some lip gloss, blush, eyeliner, concealer and an eyeshadow palette.

Changbin’s laughter is sharp and harsh and jagged. Edged with astonishment and anger, he guffaws, “Did you steal it from your sister or something?”

Something about Felix’s expression tells him his assumption is very, very wrong.

*

Just like in the previous Step, Changbin once again is faced with a kneeling Felix, this time with a brush in hand gently dabbing at his cheeks. “Considering how much you’re blushing right now, I doubt you need much of this,” Felix jokes, tone a little bitter albeit satisfied that Changbin is being punished for his ignorance. He’s right to say Changbin is already a blushing mess without the makeup on, and the ignorant midget hates that.

Indignant, he huffs. “Does your mum know you own makeup?”

Felix freezes. Instantly, Changbin regrets asking; he’s flushing even harder now, fuelled by guilt and wrath directed at himself. He stammers, “I—Sorry, that—I shouldn’t’ve—”

“She doesn’t,” Felix croaks, dabbing with a little more force, not that Changbin thinks he doesn’t deserve it. “I wear makeup at parties and on dates.”

Changbin’s eyes bulge. “You go on dates?”

Felix bursts with laughter, slapping Changbin’s thigh a little too hard. “Of course not. If I had gone onto the dating stage, you would have a boyfriend right now.”

Changbin goes quiet.

Felix clears his throat. He opens his eyeshadow palette and scans the different shades. Changbin leans forwards to look as well, and Felix arches a brow. “Suddenly interested?”

Changbin flushes. _Again._ This is getting boring.

“If you’d have agreed to the biker look, we’d have gone for smoky. It’s the coolest eyeshadow look. But since you’re a cat—”

“A cat?”

“I don’t know how to say the rude version.” Felix smirks. “Anyway, as a scaredy cat, you opted for the casual option. So natural it is.”

*

“Doesn’t ‘natural’ mean nothing on the lips?” Changbin blurts out, backing away despite himself.

Felix rolls his eyes, pouncing onto the bed to follow Changbin as he yelps and scrambles away. “No, you dumb dumb,” Felix sighs, pinning Changbin down effortlessly so that the other squeaks. “Natural makeup is still makeup. Eyes, cheeks, lips—”

 _“Okay,”_ Changbin huffs, embarrassed. He squeezes his eyes shut as Felix rubs his bottom lip with a lightly coated finger, and shine blinds him.

*

_Hyunjin’s giggles are hysterical. He’s opening his fourth tub of glitter and, ignoring Changbin’s groans of protest, emptying its contents onto the pink card._

_Incredulous, Changbin stares at the mess._

_“Miss is going to love this!”_

_“It looks like unicorn vomit.” Changbin narrows his eyes._

_Hyunjin chuckles and scoops up some of the ‘unicorn vomit’ with his finger, swiping Changbin’s cheek with it and howling with laughter at Changbin’s rage and humiliation._

_They wrestle for a while and forget the card and the teacher who is leaving._

_When their mothers find them, their bodies are smeared with glitter and smiles._

*

“What are your drawing skills like?”

Changbin scoffs. “Amazing.”

“They stink.” Felix beams at his neighbour’s infuriated expression. “Don’t be so offended. I was kidding. I’ve never even seen how you draw.”

“Okay, Picasso.”

“You should draw something on your love letter. Step Six.”

Changbin chokes.

“My _what_?”

Felix smiles. He lifts his sandwich and frowns at the side where lettuce pokes out, clearly in excess, bright and leafy. He nibbles at it, then stuffs the entire sandwich into his mouth. “Write,” he instructs, mouth full, “a love letter.”

“Because that’s totally how you make a teenage boy fall in love with you.” Changbin glares.

Felix’s face lights up. “Exactly! Now you’re getting the hang of it.”

“I’m really not.”

“You should write how you feel, make it all cute and romantic and cheesy, and—and make it anonymous—”

“What the hell would that solve?”

“—and sign it off with an adorable smiley face or something. Or like a heart. Or, a, uh…” He trails off, staring at the ground with such intense concentration Changbin feels his entire body shudder with yet another sigh. “What does Hyunjin like?”

Changbin narrows his eyes. “Whatever it is, I’m sure ‘cringey love letters from a secret admirer’ isn’t on the list.”

Ignorant as always, Felix merely gasps. “A secret admirer! Yes! That’s perfect!”

“ _Felix_ , it really isn’t—”

“They always love getting secret admirers, in the movies.”

“In the _movies_ , yes—”

“And then when he starts guessing around, trying to figure out who it is, only to find you at the end of the hall singing—” He strums an imaginary guitar. “— _I love you bitch_ —”

Changbin stares, incredulous. “Felix, did you just quote a Vine to me?”

Felix blinks; grins. “Yeah! You know Vine?”

“I don’t live under a r—”

“If someone confessed to me with a Vine, I would…” Felix trails off, and mimics swooning.

Changbin makes a mental note never to bring up social media again.

*

_A girl from Changbin’s year, Chou Tzuyu, a quiet girl from Taiwan with wide, glossy eyes, is approaching their table. Changbin spots her first, shyly smiling and clutching something to her chest—a card._

_He swallows, dropping his gaze down to his food, deciding he doesn’t want to inform Hyunjin of his visitor. He clutches his spoon tightly and stubbornly, eyes glazed._

_The girl clears her throat. “Seo Changbin,” she says, suddenly, forcing Changbin to jerk his head upwards in surprise and gawk at the girl, speechless and horrified and beyond astonished._

_She slides the card towards him, eyes and head lowered. “Happy late birthday,” she practically whispers, before spinning on her heel and hurrying out of the canteen._

_Changbin’s eyes are glued to the card. There’s a heart on it, a smiley face, and the words,_ Happy birthday, Seo Changbin. You have a cute smile. Tzuyu.

_Changbin splutters._

_Hyunjin exclaims, slapping him on the back. “Look at you—getting girls!” he yells, cackling with laughter and grinning._

_Changbin stares at him, incredulous._

_The card is left neglected._

*

“Felix, I _hate_ flowers.”

“Nobody cares about what you hate—now quit complaining,” Felix tuts. “This is about _Hyunjin_.”

Changbin groans, louder when Felix begins to drag his resisting feet to a flowerbed of daisies and daffodils and roses at the edge of the park. “There’s—bees, and—thorns—”

“I’m more scared of them than you are. And yet, I’m _still_ —”

“Nobody _asked_ you to do this though,” Changbin whines, then clamps his mouth shut when he spots his mother’s steely glare. They penetrate his own stare even from metres away.

The park is crowded with buzzing families and screaming children and shrieking birds. Changbin hates going to parks in the summer, when it’s loudest and resembles more of a market rather than … whatever parks are supposed to be.

He sighs, stabbing a finger at a limp daisy. He just wants to get Step Seven over with. “Picked one,” he grouches. “Happy?”

He lifts his head, awaiting Felix’s approval, but Felix’s eyes aren’t on the flower—in fact, he’s staring off into the distance, squinting.

Changbin’s protests are deafening when he spies the target.

A flower shop.

*

“This one.”

Changbin screws his eyes up at Felix. “Why do you get to choose?”

“Because your first choice was a weed.”

“I thought it was a—”

Felix purchases the calla lilies without another glance in Changbin’s direction, smiling gratefully at the cashier and then tugging Changbin out of the store.

“Pretty!” Felix’s sister—Olivia—exclaims when she spots the bouquet.

Changbin, despite himself, can’t help but agree.

*

When the two get back home, Changbin discovers the flowers are fake. At first, he feels immensely baffled—and then he feels betrayed. “Who would want _fake_ flowers as a gift?” he explodes, furious.

“Changbin,” Felix sighs, rolling his eyes and appearing very much like a ten-year-old trying to be an adult. “I know you think Hyunjin is the most perfect being on this planet, but I assure you, there is no one on Earth bothered enough to take care of a plant.”

“Isn’t that literally what a gardener is?”

Felix’s mouth twitches. “Okay, other than gardeners.”

Changbin’s eyes slide towards the flowers. “Where do I keep them?”

“Anywhere.”

“Under my bed?”

“Okay, obviously not under there.” Felix wrinkles his nose. “It’ll get all dusty and stuff.”

“Then, not anywhere.”

“Are you trying to outsmart me?”

“I think anybody could outsmart you, Felix.”

Felix pretends to be extremely offended: he merely succeeds in exemplifying a weird, constipated fish. “You— _cabbage_ ,” he musters, and Changbin’s lips curl.

“Did you mean to say something else?”

Felix blinks. “I was—” He pouts. “I was trying to call you a—”

“Don’t bother. You shouldn’t be learning any swear words anyway.”

Felix’s lips pucker even more. He makes a cute, frustrated _humph_ sound. “You’re not my mum.”

“I’m a year older than you.”

“ _Wow_ , a _year_ , so _old_.” Felix narrows his eyes.

“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you.”

“Shut up, cabbage!” Felix launches a pillow at him, clumsily, and misses.

Changbin bursts out laughing despite himself, driving Felix to pounce, attempting to wrestle him off his bed, and then they’re both on the ground and giggling and gasping for breath. Changbin wriggles out from beneath Felix’s figure and stretches.

Felix grabs at his legs and Changbin topples onto him.

“Ow,” Felix drawls, raising both his eyebrows at the boy lying on top of him.

Changbin blushes, wondering why his voice sounds so much deeper suddenly.

His head starts to pound.

*

_“Is this new habit your way of getting back at me?”_

_Changbin grins. He pulls Hyunjin’s duvet over his head and giggles when the other leaps onto him and endeavours to wrestle him out of his bed._

_“You’re so—” Hyunjin pants, dropping onto the floor with a laboured, resigned sigh. “—stubborn.”_

_“Your bed’s comfy.”_

_Changbin smiles; yawns._

_He dozes off quickly, despite Hyunjin’s moans in his sleep._

*

“I realised something.”

“Hm?”

Changbin looks up; Felix’s expression is incomprehensible. “I’ve never seen what Hyunjin looks like,” he muses.

Changbin’s eyelids flutter. “Oh, yeah,” he replies dumbly, pausing. Then he laughs awkwardly and scrambles for his phone.

Felix watches him, then drops his eyes down to inspect the picture Changbin shows him. Much to Changbin’s dismay, he swipes left, revealing another photo. He swipes again to reveal another, and another, and each time Changbin’s heart thuds a little harder until he considers snatching the phone away. Luckily, Felix eventually concludes the investigation. “He’s pretty,” the thief remarks.

Changbin blushes. “Well, yeah—”

“No, like.” Felix squints. “Real pretty.” He goes quiet for a few seconds, which—for some reason—makes Changbin feel extremely nervous. But then he raises his eyes again, grins, and (a little too roughly) nudges Changbin’s shoulder. Changbin groans. “You lucky kid. This is your best-friend-soon-to-be-boyfriend?”

“ _Felix_ , don’t make that joke!”

“Why? Am I wrong?” Felix’s smile widens, teeth glistening. He folds his arms, then sighs. His grin disappears. “I realised … something else.”

“You’ve been thinking a lot about me lately, huh?”

Felix—to Changbin’s surprise—actually scoffs at that. His cheeks flame, more of an orange than a crimson. He punches Changbin in the arm and Changbin yelps. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“It’s a talent,” Changbin responds coolly, but he’s shaking a little.

Felix clears his throat. “Don’t you and Hyunjin … text?”

Changbin pinks.

“He moved all of a sudden, I know that. But doesn’t he have a—”

“He loses his stuff a lot.” Changbin presses his lips tightly together, averting his gaze. “He probably lost his phone. And he probably can’t visit since he’s a nerd and he’s probably studying and in some summer clubs or at summer school or something.”

“He never—”

“No.”

Changbin gets to his feet.

Felix finally shuts up.

*

Although lacking in knowledge of relationships, Changbin succeeds in predicting Step ­­­­Eight. Honestly, it’s the Step he dreaded the most, from the moment the thought of it surfaced in his mind, bubbling and boiling and blistering. He gagged at it, winced and cringed, and prayed to the heavens he was—somehow—wrong to expect such a thing.

Because his luck hates him, he ended up correct.

He hates that he didn’t consider the opposite occurring.

Felix tumbles into his room and shoves his glowing phone in Changbin’s face, the brightness and words plastered onto the screen blinding and scarring.

_“Felix—”_

“C’mon, it’s a classic.” Felix hops onto his bed. “You can’t go wrong with pickup lines.”

“Yes, yes you absolutely can,” Changbin fires back, scarlet, hot with regret. “Are you crazy?”

“I prefer, ‘Iconic.’”

“Well this is far from that.”

_“I don’t need caffeine to stay up when I’m with you.”_

Changbin explodes.

“What’s that supposed to imply?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s—”

_“No! Don’t tell me!”_

“Oh, this is cute: _Let me take you to a restaurant._ ”

“How is that—”

_“I’ll show you a full course tonight—”_

Changbin squawks and grabs the phone, diving under the bed before Felix can follow. (Perks of being short: You can fit under a tiny as heck bed but no one else can.)

“Hey! Give me my phone back!”

“What kind of pervert website is this? You want me to make Hyunjin hate me?”

“Why would I have called it _Operation “Get-Hyunjin-To-Like-Changbin-Back”_ then?”

Changbin’s eyes bulge. “You called it _what_?”

“Maybe I should’ve called it _Operation “Get-Changbin-to-Give-Felix’s-phone-back_.” Felix’s tone is distant.

Changbin can’t believe his ears. “That’s so—”

“—exactly what this is?”

How is it possible to hear somebody’s raised brows?

Changbin’s entire face flames.

*

_“How hard can flirting be?”_

_Changbin spins to gape at Hyunjin’s thoughtful face, his own blanched. “Excuse— What did you just say?”_

_Hyunjin shrugs. “They were doing a flirting contest in class. Pretty dumb.” He chuckles. “The worst part, though, was that everything the guys said made the girls swoon._ Everything. _” He pauses, glancing curiously at Changbin, whose eyes are wide and round and petrified, bulging as Hyunjin edges closer._ _“Hey, Changbin,” Hyunjin whispers in his ear, forcing out nervous, strangled laughter from the shorter boy. His lips are so close to his ear that Changbin fears he might bite it accidentally._

_“Hyun—”_

_Hyunjin’s arm loops around his waist and he squeals. He stares up at the boy, who’s smirking like crazy and making his heart pound and judder and—_

_“You’re really short.”_

_Hyunjin beams at Changbin, who’s staring at him. “See? How was that attractive? Is that the sort of thing that makes a girl’s heart flutter?” he guffaws, so incredibly amused Changbin wants to cry._

*

Changbin awakens suddenly, wincing at the storm of violent knocking on his window. He staggers out of bed and draws the curtain, eyes already narrowing, and narrowing even more at the sight of Felix’s bright and sunny face.

“It’s three a.m.,” Changbin mouths furiously at the glass, stepping back.

But Felix is persistent. A few clouds slip into his features, and he immediately begins knocking again.

Changbin rolls his eyes and heaves open the window.

“I thought you might wait until my knuckles bleed.”

“Gross.”

Felix grins, almost wickedly. “Guess you’ve never been in a fight then.”

He climbs over the gaps and lands neatly on his feet in Changbin’s room.

Changbin thinks again of Hyunjin’s tumble.

“You always have this look on your face,” Felix drills into his daydream, “when you think about him.”

Changbin scowls.

“It’s so cute.”

Groaning, he clambers into his bed and pulls the covers over his face, in a fruitless protest. Felix jumps in after him, tossing off the covers in a smooth, practised manner.

“You wake up your sisters at three a.m. too?”

“No, they’d cry about their beauty sleep.”

“And I can’t do the same?”

Felix’s grin expands into a summery eruption. “Never.”

Changbin faces the other way. “What do you want?”

“Step Nine.”

Changbin flips in an instant. He glowers at Felix: furious, stunned and in disbelief. He’s been woken up at three a.m. many times before, by the original neighbour—mainly for a session of coaxing due to nightmares, or to have late night (well, early morning) picnics, and other cheesy things Hyunjin was obsessed with. Honestly, he wouldn’t be surprised if those were the kinds of things Felix woke people up for, too.

Yet this occasion begs to differ.

“Felix.”

The thief beams. Fuelling Changbin’s bewilderment, he retrieves the covers and forces both boys to hide under them, making Changbin’s cheeks flush darker than they’ve ever done.

Because, although Hyunjin did need consolation sometimes, and the two neighbours were close, they’d never … lied down side-by-side. And not _underneath the covers_ , not ever. Definitely not.

Despite the initial shock, Changbin finds his muscles loosening. He gives in, for several reasons: he’s tired, Felix isn’t going to try anything, Felix is probably straight (isn’t he? Changbin just automatically assumed…) and it seems a normal enough experience for the other boy—whose every action is ordered, effortless and customary.

 _This a habit of yours?_ Changbin considers asking.

He doesn’t.

Instead, he opts for: “What the hell is Step Nine and why did you wake me up at three a.m. for it?”

The question makes Felix’s face brighten.

“Funny you should ask.”

“Hilarious.”

Changbin rolls his eyes.

*

_“It’s okay, Hyunjinnie, there’s nothing to be scared of.”_

_The scrawny boy quivers, almost hysterically, knees masking his face and arms curled around them—tight. His breathing is laboured and heavy and loud, and when Changbin, gently, lowers the boy’s pale legs, Hyunjin’s face is drenched in tears._

_“You poor kid.”_

_Changbin doesn’t know what else to say._

_“There was—my mum—” Hyunjin sobs into his hands._

_Changbin hugs him, automatically._

_Hyunjin’s nightmares are frequent these days._

*

“Tell me what you like most about Hyunjin.”

Changbin’s eyes widen. “What did you say?” he demands, cheeks hot and body sizzling.

Felix, as per usual, doesn’t notice. He pulls the covers over himself tighter, and yawns. “That’s Step Nine.”

“Why the hell is that Step Nine? Why the hell is that a Step at all—”

“Careful, Changbin: you’ll wake your mum up.”

Changbin glares. He sits up, fuming, heart racing, blood roaring. _What the heck is he playing at? What kind of question is that? Why does he have to know?_

“The longer you take, the less effective the Step is.”

“It’s not effective at all, though,” Changbin whisper-shouts, on fire.

“It is.” Felix snuggles up against his arm: Changbin stills. “Now answer the question.”

*

_It’s Changbin’s first party._

_Well, school party, that is. It’s quite … it’s extremely pathetic, this little party, Changbin knows. The music playing is a terrible remix, there are about fourteen kids in the room—all in uniform—and the food is just a trio of tables adorned in plastic plates and cups and crisp packets and bright sweet wrappers._

_It’s a school party, of course it’s awful._

_But school parties being awful and second-rate (maybe not even good enough to be second-rate, Changbin thinks) isn’t the real reason why Changbin has always gone out of his way to avoid them._

_Simply, it’s a social event, crappy or not._

_And the words “Changbin” and “social” don’t really mix together well._

_But Hyunjin’s here._

*

“Come on, Changbin. What’s there to like about him?”

*

_His smile. He’s smiling, of course he’s smiling, he’s always smiling. His entire face is glowing like a sun—like a candle—like a star. The room is dull and dim and dreary but Hyunjin resembles a pearl hidden inside a dusty clam. His smile illuminates the entire world, Changbin’s entire world._

_He towers over the other boys—scrawny, tall, all long and lean limbs with a hint of shy crookedness—and chatters happily and excitedly._

_His eyes are searching. They’re wide and sparkling, and then they’re on Changbin, and Changbin blushes, and Hyunjin’s eyes are the moon shaped into two smiley_ C _’s._

_Hyunjin’s hug is warm. Changbin is tiny, which he hates, except when Hyunjin’s tall and increasingly broad figure envelops him like a protective, blissful breeze. It’s an unapologetic action—the other boys are staring, alienated, Changbin might say, but Hyunjin doesn’t seem to care._

_When Hyunjin releases one arm, he lets the other snake around Changbin’s waist—a little higher, granted—and he pulls him to his side and they stay like that._

_Changbin isn’t so scared of the party, of the eyes, of the stares._

_He has Hyunjin next to him._

*

Felix is asleep.

Changbin notices, and scowls.

He nudges him.

When the boy doesn’t stir, he shakes him, hard, and Felix half cries out.

“You’re gonna wake up my mum, dumbass.”

“You couldn’t’ve left me alone to sleep?” Felix groans.

Changbin’s jaw smacks the ground in dismay. “Hello?” He knocks on Felix’s head as though it were a door. “Anything in there?”

“Funny.” Felix rolls his eyes.

“You made me talk about my crush—made me tell _you_ why I like _him_.”

“I know.”

Changbin throws up his hands. “You know?” he almost yells. “You know? Then why did you fall asleep? I was—I was—”

“You had a lot to say.”

Changbin stares at him. “You think so?” he snaps, irritated.

Felix nods. “That’s good.”

“What do you mean, ‘That’s good?’” Changbin scoffs. _Unbelievable._ “What the hell was the point of—”

“When you like someone—really, _really_ like someone—you can talk about them for hours and hours and hours, and you totally forget everything and everyone else around you and just … talk.”

He gestures to the clock. “It’s quarter to four, now. You started talking about twenty-six minutes ago. I don’t remember being awake past half past three.”

Changbin blinks.

“I didn’t notice you fell asleep.”

“Exactly.”

He snorts. “I didn’t know you were so smart.”

He feels Felix’s sleepy grin in the dimness. “Yeah, well, it took me a while to come up with the idea.”

“Thank you,” Changbin says before he can stop himself, and both boys go silent. The raw gratitude carved into the two syllables, painful and doubtless, wrenches the words out of Felix and Changbin—and thus both decide to settle into a peaceful nap.

When Changbin awakes, Felix is gone.

A little note sits in his place:

_Phase 1 of Operation “Get-Hyunjin-To-Like-Changbin-Back”: complete. Now it’s time for the fun part!_

Changbin can’t help but mirror the smiley face underneath.

*

There are several activities that can be found on the list of ‘Changbin’s least favourite things to do’. Socialising is high up on the list, as well as ‘smiling at random guys you used to like when you were six’ (yes, that’s a blatant reference to Han Jisung).

Cramming at the end of the summer, unsurprisingly, easily makes the cut.

“Stop knocking on the window,” he yells over his shoulder, imagining a wide-eyed Felix pressed up against the glass.

When the knocking refuses to cease, he groans, peels himself off the chair and throws open the window.

“Whatcha doing?” Felix grins, a light breeze entering the room with his smile, warm and comforting.

A wall of impenetrable focus and agitation blocks Felix’s attempts at brightening the room. “Studying,” Changbin spits, eyes narrowed, teeth slightly clenched.

Felix frowns, as though the word were foreign.

 _Maybe it is,_ Changbin suddenly remembers, opening his mouth to translate, but Felix’s response tells him he understands: “Oh. Okay. Can I join?”

Well, maybe not.

“You’re not even in my year.”

“So?”

“I need to focus.”

Felix nods rapidly, but Changbin predicts he’s still not got the slightest clue.

“I’ll be quiet!”

Yep. No clue.

“You. Quiet?”

“Mhm.” Felix nods again, with even more vigorous, vivid enthusiasm, forcing Changbin to choke down explosive laughter.

“A likely story. Very likely.”

“That’s right!”

Changbin sighs. He points to his bed, a few metres away, then at his computer. “Sit there. Stay there. Don’t say anything about what you see on the screen.”

Felix’s eyes widen.

Changbin groans. “I _meant_ , don’t _distract_ me, not—” His cheeks flame. _He’s only been in the room for a minute, and he’s already distracted me enough to forget what the hell I was doing,_ he thinks, frustration squeezing his insides. His chair scrapes as he gets up, and Felix blinks rapidly at him, staring at the bed and then at Changbin’s neglected textbooks. He opens his mouth to say something, but doesn’t get the chance to when Changbin grabs his hand and pulls him with him out of his room and the house.

*

“Tell me about Australia.”

Felix’s mystified expression, which has been glued to his face since he and Changbin left the house, only intensifies. He looks down at the iced drink he clutches in his tiny hands.

Jisung materialises at the table. “Juice carton,” he drawls, planting said juice carton in front of Changbin with a faint smirk scribbled onto his face.

Changbin thanks him with hot cheeks.

“Why do you wanna know about Australia?” Felix asks gently when Jisung wafts away.

Changbin shrugs, removing the wrapping from his black straw. “You don’t talk about it much.”

The response seems to perplex and intrigue Felix simultaneously. He sips from his drink. “It’s hot. Santa wears swimming trunks.” Changbin snorts. “It’s snowing right now, over there, though. Southern Hemisphere versus Northern Hemisphere.”

“Did you swim often?” Changbin blurts out before he can stop himself. He feels ashamed at Felix’s panicked expression.

“I—Yeah, I did. A lot. When it was snowing, too. Classes ran all year round. Unlike here.” He’s finished his drink. “What about you? You said you go to music class, right?”

Changbin nods.

The silence is a bit stiff, and Changbin doesn’t know why.

*

Changbin’s uniform feels smaller than usual when he tries it on. He bites his lip, grumbles, and wishes not being a midget wasn’t so expensive.

He’s just about to head downstairs and confront his mother when a series of urgent knocks pierce the air.

He turns.

*

“See, the thing is—I’m nervous.”

“You’ve never moved schools before?”

Without hesitation, Felix shakes his head. The movement is rapid and frantic and terrified, and Changbin feels his stomach tighten and lips curl into a frown. “It’s not that bad.”

Felix doesn’t look convinced.

“God. A wuss? Never took you for that.”

“You never took me for a lot of things.” Felix wrings his hands together. “What’s your school like?”

“Broke.”

“Teachers?”

“Meh.”

“And—the students?”

Changbin pauses. He pats Felix’s head fondly, then looks away. “You’ll be fine.”

“Can I walk with you?”

Changbin gapes at him.

*

_“Ow!”_

_Changbin scowls as he rubs his head, correct to anticipate the grinning face of Hyunjin appearing before his eyes. The last day of school is hot but not blistering, the sun merciful and gentle and illuminating Hyunjin’s beautiful, soft eyes. The taller boy skips at Changbin’s side, grabbing his hand and swinging—hard—despite the short boy’s yells of protest._

_“God, you’re so embarrassing!”_

_“And you’re_ boring _,” Hyunjin sings, still beaming, and before Changbin knows what’s happening he’s being twirled like in a dance, and the sky is a shimmering aquamarine and full of laughter, and Hyunjin’s grin is gorgeous and his eyes are crescents that sparkle and his arms are around Changbin in a warm, sincere hug._

_Changbin pushes him away. “It’s too hot to hug. Why are you hugging me?”_

_“I came out to my cousin, yesterday,” Hyunjin finally confesses, an indescribable expression etched onto his face._

_Changbin blinks and stops._

_“Oh.”_

*

“Chan?” Felix calls out suddenly, Kangaroo accent thicker than ever when he spies Changbin’s classmate several feet away.

Chan whips his head to the side, eyes wide and sparkling with elated surprise as they meet Felix’s own, and just like that Felix unfastens himself from Changbin’s side and disappears around the corner with his new (well, apparently old) friend, chattering rapidly in indecipherable English.

Changbin’s heart thumps slowly, vaguely yet violently, against his ribcage. He swallows, ignoring his misty eyes and plodding stubbornly through the corridor, searching desperately.

 _Hyunjin, Hyunjin, where are you?_ he chants miserably in his head, fingers lacing together and squeezing until he almost cries out in the pain.

He doesn’t remember the hallway ever being this crowded—did a million kids enrol this summer? Is he imagining an army marching towards him? Is Hyunjin even—

Abruptly, Changbin halts.

A few more students pour through the hall like an endless gushing stream, their chatter now muted and muffled and miles away as Changbin’s eyes—wide and widening, still—adjust to the blinding, brilliant, beautiful shadow several feet away from him.

“Hyunjin,” he whispers, heartbeat quickening, eyelids fluttering, smile broadening at the sight of his best friend, a billion times prettier and more handsome than he remembers (how could that even be possible?), even taller, grinning and glistening, and … and…

Changbin inhales.

Hyunjin turns his head.

His eyes widen and morph into crescents: “Oh, Changbinnie! Changbin, there you are!”

Letting go of the boy’s hand, he waves—but Changbin doesn’t return the favour.

His eyes slide back to the boy, misting, narrowing, and trembling hysterically.

Hyunjin engulfs him in a hug. Changbin stands stiffly. “Changbinnie, I missed you.” He pulls back and smiles. “Dude, I had the wildest summer.”

“I bet you did,” Changbin croaks, expression limp.

Hyunjin grins, beckoning towards the boy, before saying three words that tear Changbin’s heart into a million shreds in mere seconds:

“Seungmin: my boyfriend.”


	2. Operation “Get-Over-Hyunjin”

In Changbin’s head, the scene—the painful, agonising, scorching scene that grabs at his eyeballs and hurls them into the sun—replays, over and over and over again: the image of Hyunjin’s fingers curling around the honey-smiled boys’ gripping at his stomach and twisting, hard, mercilessly, and yanking out his tears.

Struggling, he forces himself to blink rapidly and straighten, gripping at the blurred page of his textbook with quivering fingers.

Someone taps his shoulder.

Reluctant, he turns.

Felix’s sunny smile blinds him, although slightly less blistering than the image in his mind and a bit more … warm. Comforting. Not knowing how, or why, Changbin smiles back.

The teacher blabbers about hormones and Changbin tries to silence his thundering thoughts.

*

The session is for students across various ages. After several decades, it’s over. Changbin nearly drops his books as he rapidly packs his things, head down, chest rising and plummeting fast. He needs to leave, as soon as possible, before—

“Hey, Changbin! So, where do you guys hang out at lunch?”

It’s only Felix. His smile is wide and eager and ignorant, a familiar and therefore rather soothing sight. Changbin’s tired smile doesn’t seem to satisfy Felix, who, he assumes, hasn’t heard the news. He glances behind him, spies Hyunjin getting ready to leave. “Aren’t you gonna leave with him? Why were you in such a—”

Changbin grabs Felix’s arm and tugs him out of the classroom.

*

The sun is hot and heavy and heartless. Frankly, Changbin couldn’t care less: it’s nothing compared to what’s going on inside of his brain and his heart. He glances at Felix, who munches obediently on a carrot, watching Changbin from the corner of his eye and probably thinking he’s being sly. He isn’t, but Changbin lets him think so for a while.

Finally, Felix turns to him. “Well, why did you drag me out here?”

“It’s a nice spot.” Changbin sips his juice and winces. It’s pineapple—his least favourite flavour. He grabbed it in a rush.

“Okay.” Felix pauses, as though struggling to remember his second question. Despite himself, Changbin smirks. “Then—then why are we here alone?”

Changbin sips some more. He stares down at his feet and counts to three, four, then ten. He inhales sharply and forces himself to look Felix in the eye. His stomach knots.

“Hyunjin has a boyfriend,” he announces, at last.

The leaves rustle, sympathetically.

Felix goes pale.

*

“There you guys are! We were wondering where the two of you rushed off to.”

Changbin smiles tightly. “Felix was a bit nervous. He’s never moved schools before.”

“Wow, I didn’t know you had so many friends!” Felix exclaims, eyes wide and bright. Changbin grits his teeth and flushes.

Truthfully, Changbin has spent the last few years of his life with Hyunjin only. In fact, he can’t remember a time they spent their lunchtimes or time together after school _with literally anybody else_. It’s always been the two of them—two best friends.

But Hyunjin isn’t alone with him right now. Beside Changbin is Felix, and crowding around Hyunjin are Seungmin, _Han Jisung_ , Bang Chan, and three other faces he barely recognises.

Hyunjin, for once, is quiet.

“You must be Felix,” one of the boys grins at Felix, who looks like he might faint of excitement. ( _Is that even a thing?_ Changbin wonders, resisting the urge to scoff. _Considering it’s Felix we’re talking about, here…_ ) The boy is broad and towers over the boys, although Hyunjin and several others match—or nearly match—his height. “I’m Woojin. A friend of Chan.” His eyes slide downwards to meet Changbin’s. “And a friend of Seungmin. You’re Hyunjin’s friend, Changbin?”

_Hyunjin’s friend._

“Binnie, you look so grumpy!” Hyunjin gasps, theatrically, finally looking at ease—not that Changbin feels the same. His eyes don’t unfasten themselves from Hyunjin’s hand, tucked into Seungmin’s. “You’re never happy on the first day of school. But now you have a bunch of new friends to hang with this year! These are Minho, Chan, and Jeongin—I met them at summer school! Jeongin’s way younger than us but he’s still a head taller than you, isn’t that hilarious? And Woojin’s already introduced himself, and Jisung’s also a friend of Seungmin, we made up a while ago—childish fights never last, y’know? And you’ve already met—”

_Seungmin._

Changbin has already met Seungmin, that’s correct. He smiles rigidly at the boy, whose smile is so sweet and sincere it makes Changbin want to throw up.

These other students, he minds hanging out with, sure, but he’ll put up with it if he has to.

Seungmin, on the other hand, he minds hanging out with the most—and he doesn’t think he wants to put up with that.

*

_Changbin slams the front door close, accidentally—well, kind of. Realising his mistake, he panics; freezes; begins (with eyes squeezed shut and teeth clenched) crafting a fake, plausible excuse._

_His mother appears promptly, eyebrows raised. “Door breaks, you pay.”_

_“Sorry,” Changbin smiles rigidly. His mother’s eyebrows move even higher up her face. He clears his throat. “I—I got a lot of homework.”_

_“Is that right?”_

_“Yep—”_

_“I didn’t see you walking with Hyunjin. I thought he only has dance practice on Wednesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays.”_

_Changbin wrenches his eyes away._

_“He doesn’t have dance practice today.”_

_“You fought?”_

_“He’s out with friends.”_

_Is it possible for one’s eyebrows to nestle in their hair? Changbin’s mother seems to think so. She folds her arms across her chest and leans into the wall, expression impossible to read. “Friends? Not including you?”_

_“I have homework—”_

_Changbin races up the stairs. His mother calls after him but he staggers into his room and locks his door before she can follow him._

_He tries not to think so much about Hyunjin with others, without him, and searches for his homework in his bag._

*

Seungmin is nice.

Changbin can’t really go further than that—can’t bring himself to compliment him, can’t force himself to spare him more than this meagre thought.

He’s nice, Seungmin, really, he is.

But he’s also, Changbin reminds himself, chest tight—Hyunjin’s boyfriend.

Thus, with that in mind, he storms out of his room and bursts outside.

*

“You knocked on the front door. That’s a change.”

“I want you to help me—get over Hyunjin.” Changbin spits out the words, quickly, before he can change his mind, blood pounding, heart racing, nausea curling around his tongue when he notices Felix’s wide, surprised eyes.

“You…” his voice falters, as he blinks, rapid, perplexed.

Changbin doesn’t have time for this.

He growls, irritated and desperate, “Didn’t you hear me? I said, _I want to get over Hyunjin_.”

Felix bites his lip. “Is it because of—?” he starts, then winces as though he’d bitten his tongue to stop himself from saying any more. With a sigh, Changbin realises that’s probably exactly what he did, and he wonders if—this time—Felix won’t be able to help him.

But before he can turn on his heel and stalk away, fuming, Felix meets his shaky gaze with his own trademark sunny one, smiles gently (it’s odd to see such a subdued expression etched into Felix’s features, Changbin thinks, but he appreciates it, and it makes his chest tighten) and nods.

_Nods._

Changbin deflates.

“Thank God,” he mutters, heartbeat unsteady, relief immersing his trembling little body.

And that’s when laughs nervously, grins, and hugs him.

*

_“Changbin? Are you alright?” the voice on the line sounds, tentative, and Changbin shuts his eyes._

_He clenches his teeth, trying his best not to let his rage wander out of its cage and pounce onto Hyunjin’s defenceless body. “I’m—” He pauses; inhales sharply. “I called you seven times.”_

_“Well … you must’ve realised I was busy by the third call, no?”_

_Changbin’s eyes narrow._

_“Excuse me?”_

_“Binnie— Listen, I know you were probably wondering where I was, it doesn’t matter. Don’t worry about it. Sorry I didn’t check—”_

Stop making me sound so desperate, _Changbin spits, silently, cheeks colouring. His free hand balls up into a fist. “I don’t care,” he lies, seething. “I don’t— Whatever.”_

_“Changbinnie, seven phone calls isn’t—”_

“Shut up!” _Changbin bellows before he can stop himself, and then, mortified and enraged, he hangs up and throws his phone as hard as he can at the wall._

_He sobs._

*

Felix’s embrace is just as warm as his smile, just as comforting as his pretty eyes, just as cosy as his adorable sweaters or his lightly messy bedroom or his … entire being.

Felix’s embrace is everything Changbin has ever wanted—Felix’s arms around him are tight, protective, careful, empathetic and force Changbin to freeze, speechless, stunned, scarlet painting his cheeks as his heartbeat slows and speeds up to a frenzied gallop at the same time. As his legs tense and threaten to give away; as his eyes widen and his mouth parts and his temperature plummets and soars.

When he realises he hasn’t moved a single inch since Felix stepped forwards to hug him—a second ago? A few seconds? A century?—Changbin’s face blushes darker, even darker when Felix pulls away, giggling nervously _(nervously)_ and eyes darting away and mouth twitching and cheeks faintly tinged.

“You’re clingy.”

“Shut it. You’re the one who hugged me.”

“You looked sad though. And you were totally begging for it.” Felix smiles. “Now—to the café!”

*

“Bad idea. Café was … a bad idea.”

“You think?” Changbin rolls his eyes.

Hyunjin, Seungmin, Chan and Woojin are seated near the front door, chattering away to their waiter, obviously Jisung. Changbin can’t believe he and Felix forgot Jisung worked here—perhaps it was the shocking expectation of having six new friends that made _him_ forget.

But what could Felix’s excuse possibly be?

“Hey, guys! Over here!” Chan calls out, waving to Changbin and Felix before they can run out of the café at lightning speed.

Changbin goes rigid; Felix giggles, nervously.

“Hey,” they greet simultaneously upon arriving at the table, wincing at the same time, too.

Woojin pulls out two chairs from the table next to them. “Wanna hang?”

“No thanks,” Changbin declines as politely as he can manage, but at the same time Felix nods, “Sure.”

They stare at each other.

_So_ now _we’re not in sync?_ Changbin inwardly rolls his eyes again.

“That a ‘no’, then?” Chan, for some reason, is grinning.

“If you’re gonna leave”—Seungmin winks at Changbin ( _winks_ )—“then, can you answer one question for me, Binnie, before you go?”

Changbin grits his teeth. He hides his fists behind his back and tilts his head in a silent gesture of approval, hoping his irritation isn’t too visible.

“Do you always look this short?”

The table, waiter and Felix all explode with laughter. Changbin blushes profusely, ducking his head down and twitching.

“Just messing with you, Binnie,” Seungmin grins, lifting his coffee cup as though it were a glass of alcohol or something.

Changbin half-smiles, half-grimaces.

Felix tugs him out of the café with a terrible, rushed excuse.

*

“Binnie! Felix! Wait up!”

“Isn’t that Hyunjin?” Felix whispers to Changbin, eyes bulging, before he suddenly turns.

Changbin gulps, twisting around with him—almost reluctantly. Hyunjin smiles as he jogs towards the two, sunlight illuminating him gracefully and elegantly, outlining him with gold. Changbin resists the selfish, petty urge to glower at the halo dressing his hair. His eyes drop down before he forces them back onto his crush’s face.

“You guys left so fast. Anyway, I hope Seungmin’s joke didn’t offend you too much, Changbin.”

“It didn’t—”

“It did.” Hyunjin chuckles, winking at Felix. “He thinks I don’t know him after all these years,” he tuts, and Felix, delighted at being addressed, giggles a bit too hysterically.

Changbin crosses his arms.

Hyunjin clears his throat. “Anyway, Binnie, don’t be too upset, yeah? Seriously—Seungmin only makes fun of people he really likes! So it’s a good—”

“Maybe I don’t wanna be made fun of, even by people who like me,” Changbin spits. Hyunjin blinks rapidly, clearly taken aback. _Good,_ Changbin thinks, and he glares.

Before Hyunjin can respond, Changbin grabs onto Felix’s arm and storms off, dragging Felix away with him.

*

“Changbin, dude! What were you thinking? Why did you—”

“I don’t like it when people make fun of my height,” Changbin lies. Well, it isn’t a lie, but it technically wasn’t the reason why he couldn’t hold it in anymore. He doesn’t like being made fun of for his height, that’s correct, but what he doesn’t like even _more_ than that is seeing Hyunjin holding hands with Seungmin, sticking up for Seungmin, joking around with Felix and expecting Changbin to hang out with six new people he has never met before knowing Changbin … hates getting to know new people. He absolutely despises it. He hated hearing news of Hyunjin abruptly moving, because his crush and best friend was now further away from him _and_ he was now going to be forced to make friends with someone new.

Thankfully, Felix is a dumbass. A cute, really friendly dumbass, to be specific. But Changbin doesn’t know what these six new people are like—not on a personal level, anyway. Rumours can’t tell you much.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, grudgingly. “Should we go to the park or something?”

“I—I have homework.” Felix wrings his hands together.

Changbin stares.

“See you around, Changbin,” Felix mutters, and trudges silently towards to his front door.

*

_Changbin is having an anxiety attack._

_He knows how to help Hyunjin when he’s having one, and Hyunjin, in return, is always there for Changbin to help him back down to earth and peace and calm and safety when he’s shivering and staggering and his eyes are welling up with tears._

_But Hyunjin said he wouldn’t walk with him today._

_And now Changbin is on the bus and there are too many people with him._

_Helpless, he drowns._

*

Felix ignores Changbin for two hours. It’s a new record, and despite his upset, Changbin can’t help but feel … a little proud of Felix.

At ten past six, the familiar sound of knocking embraces Changbin’s ears. He finds it difficult to fight back the smile tugging at his lips, as he marches towards the window and heaves open the curtain.

Felix is pouting; Changbin raises a brow.

“You didn’t say sorry.”

“I did.”

“Oh. You did?” Felix flushes.

Changbin rolls his eyes. He moves away from the window, gesturing for Felix to climb inside. “I got a bit overwhelmed,” he admits, and Felix nods.

“That’s okay, Changbin. Just—tell me next time. Please. Okay?”

“Okay.” Changbin’s smile betrays him.

Felix grins and holds out his tiny pinkie, tilting his head to the side as Changbin sighs. He wraps his own finger around it and appreciates how safe Felix’s touch is.

“So, as an apology,” Felix drawls, “I’m thinking pizza sounds pretty good…”

*

Changbin looks like he’s trying to bite an innocent person’s head off. Felix winces, endeavouring to dismiss the pizza’s agonised screams. “He went for—for _that_ guy,” Changbin complains. “What does that guy have that I don’t?”

Felix doesn’t hesitate: “A nice smile.”

Changbin whacks him.

“I was _kidding_ ,” Felix whines, rubbing his head and pouting, his favourite thing to do, apparently. He pauses and stares at Changbin, who nibbles gingerly at the crust of his pizza. “Your smile is adorable.”

Changbin flushes; almost chokes. “And yet—”

“Okay, most important part of getting over someone: _not thinking about them_.”

“But—”

Felix puts a finger to Changbin’s lips, eyebrows raised. “Or talking.”

Changbin narrows his eyes. “There’s ketchup on your finger now.”

“Ew, _gross_ —”

*

“Does it ever bother you?”

Felix frowns, palpably puzzled. “Does what bother me?”

Struggling, Changbin gesticulates, vaguely. “Y’know. Like … not being able to speak perfect Korean.”

To Changbin’s surprise, Felix laughs. “That? Bothers me? It’s great. Well, not exactly great. It’s fun—learning a new language. Plus, nobody really minds, and usually people get what I’m saying anyway. Isn’t it the same with English?”

It’s an odd question. Changbin feels like it shouldn’t be—feels an urge hidden in Felix’s words to agree, a nudge that instructs him to say, ‘Yes, it’s the same with me.’

But he can’t. So he doesn’t: “I … don’t really speak much English.”

“Oh, I know that.” Felix waves a hand. “I mean, learning it and stuff. Or when you visit another country.”

“Uh.” Changbin smiles meekly.

Finally, Felix seems to understand. His mouth forms a small ‘o’ of astonishment and recognition, and he pauses for a moment, forehead creasing and nose crinkling with visible effort. Changbin feels a bit guilty for giggling at the boy’s expression.

“Maybe I could try to teach you some English, one day,” Felix suggests at last, hopeful and eager.

Changbin pictures it; his eyes widen.

“Now—my turn to ask a question.” Felix gestures to the stash of CDs, hidden partially beneath Changbin’s bed. “What’s the deal with all the music?”

Changbin snorts. “I take music class. I like music.”

“Do you even listen to them?”

“For inspiration.”

Felix nods.

“I like collecting them. They look nice.”

“That’s cute.”

Changbin flushes, turning away. “Shouldn’t you be in swim class yet? Your mum hasn’t enrolled you?”

Felix leans back, arms behind his head, his expression peculiar. “Still got a few days. Then I’ll be bothering you a bit less. You can’t wait, can you?” He sends Changbin a small grin which Changbin struggles to mirror. “Gotta have a trial first. So they can put me in a class.”

“The beginners’ class, I bet.”

Felix snorts and stares off into the distance.

*

_Hyunjin still isn’t picking up. It’s the fourth day in a row he doesn’t walk with Changbin home after school—or pick up the phone when Changbin calls._

_The next day, Changbin confronts his best friend. But immediately he regrets it, because Hyunjin’s entire face blanches, and he starts shivering, and Changbin thinks he’s just triggered his own best friend’s anxiety._

_But Hyunjin doesn’t have an anxiety attack. He only hangs his head and mumbles, “There’s … stuff going on. I’m sorry. You can’t help me with this one, Binnie. I wish you could but you can’t.”_

_Changbin doesn’t quite understand. He tries his best not to feel offended, and to trust his best friend. Hyunjin holds his hand and they hug, but only a few seconds later Hyunjin is recoiling and apologising rapidly and running away from Changbin, leaving him all alone._

*

Woojin’s mother is the lunch lady; he gets the largest portions of chicken out of all the boys, but refuses to share (except with Chan, and Changbin, surprisingly). Chan is the head of the school council, and he and Jisung make music together. Jisung loves swearing. Minho loves to flirt with anyone who breathes, especially Jisung, and he dances with Hyunjin. Seungmin definitely enjoys abusing those closest to him. And Jeongin’s two years younger than Changbin and although it certainly shows on his face, his height says otherwise.

Eventually, Changbin learns to call these new people ‘friends’. He finds it the most difficult to talk to Seungmin but gradually appreciates being taunted by him. Felix tells him he should ask Chan and Jisung more about their music, but Changbin fails to gather the courage every time the opportunity arises.

Hyunjin is always there, burning his retina, holding Seungmin’s hand tightly.

Every time Hyunjin asks to walk with him to his next class, Changbin refuses. Every time Hyunjin asks him what he’s doing after school, Changbin exaggerates the amount of homework he has to do.

Every time Hyunjin smiles at him, Changbin wishes things could go back to normal, with just Hyunjin and Changbin, neighbours, best friends … more than that.

But then Felix grabs his hand and Seungmin grabs Hyunjin’s.

They’re torn apart and reality stings.

*

Felix’s eyes keep darting around the room, settling on Changbin’s face before widening and flickering towards the carpet and the window and literally everywhere but Changbin’s face. He wrings his hands together, freckles disappearing in a sea of scarlet that eventually swallows up his entire body.

Changbin raises his brows, folding his arms across his chest and fighting back a smirk.

Finally, Felix meets his eyes again.

“Care to tell me what’s on your mind?”

The sea coating Felix’s face morphs into a bottomless ocean, incarnadine. He bites his lip before descending into an explosive fit of awkward, embarrassed giggles.

Changbin sighs.

“Okay. Fine. Sorry. Um, well … You know how … uh, last time, when you asked … how to get Hyunjin to like you, I, um, helped you and—”

“I know, yes.” Changbin’s eyes narrow, suspicion forcing his heartbeat to race. “What is it, Felix? You can’t—”

“No, I’m going to help you,” Felix cuts him off quickly, rigidly, a stench of determination strangling his words so Changbin can’t help but feel quite impressed (and touched, too). “I am—I will. But … it’s just that, I’m really new to this … particular thing.”

Changbin snorts. “Getting over people?”

Felix’s smile is sunny but sheepish. “Well, yeah. I like getting my heart broken, y’know?” he lies shamelessly, and Changbin rolls his eyes.

“Well?”

“Well.” Felix swallows, eyes burning holes into the carpet at their feet. His fingers tease at the rim, for a few seconds, so that the silence suffocating the air becomes even more unbearable and Changbin becomes even more impatient. “Well, uh, so,” he starts up again, a permanently malfunctioning radio. “I—I have only one suggestion,” he blurts, face flushed so strongly he resembles (Changbin tries not to laugh) a plum.

“A suggestion.” Changbin strokes his chin. “Which is?”

If Felix looked like a plum before, he’s beginning to look a lot like a mulberry, now.

It only starts to make sense when he finally, finally, spits out the words:

“Would you like to pretend to go out with me, Seo Changbin?”

Changbin thinks he might faint.

*

It’s been a minute or two since Felix asked his question, but Changbin thinks it might actually have been a year or two, instead. Maybe even a decade. The point is, the question forces the silence to stretch for a painfully prolonged period of time, which penetrates the air between them like a sharp, sniggering blade. Changbin’s eyes bulge, his lungs empty of air and his hands uncomfortably clammy.

Felix asked him out. Granted, it was a … _fake_ asking-out, but an asking-out nevertheless. Changbin is lost for words.

And he quickly realises—he should probably respond. Yes, that does seem sensible.

“Uh, yeah,” he stutters, grimacing.

Felix’s smile is stiff but genuine. “You’re worse at this than I thought.”

“I’ll pretend you jumped for joy because I accepted you.”

They grin at each other after Felix is done giggling.

*

Interactions between the two boys turn awkward again very fast. Too fast for Changbin’s liking, but then again, he would’ve preferred for it to not have turned awkward again at all.

The issue is simple: neither of them have dated before. The closest Changbin has ever gotten to dating was when Tzuyu gave him that card, but the problem there was that Changbin was, and still is, _way_ too gay. Also, he heard a couple of rumours claiming she was dared, but he always chose ignore them so his ego wouldn’t deflate too much.

Felix—who Changbin can’t believe is actually into dudes, although he’s not really sure why he assumed Felix was straight—has also had invisible luck with guys. ( _Maybe there aren’t a lot of gay teenagers in Australia,_ Changbin ponders. _There can’t be many—why would someone reject someone as adorable, innocent, fun and cute as Felix?_ )

Anyway, with such a humiliating lack of experience, both are rendered incredibly uncomfortable, flailing and struggling during their second, third and fourth visits to each other’s rooms.

“Maybe,” Changbin mumbles on their fifth try, “we shouldn’t be trying our luck … in each other’s … _rooms_.” He feels the need to clarify despite the painfully palpable blush blossoming onto Felix’s cheeks. “You know, as, er, boyfriends.”

“Yeah,” Felix clears his throat, swiftly looking elsewhere. “Maybe.”

*

“So.” Changbin checks around him for any other students, hoping they don’t look too obvious, sitting at a bench—alone. _People do that,_ Changbin reminds himself, trying not to twitch too much as he smiles nervously at his … fake boyfriend. _People meet up. Alone. At benches. This is normal._

If it only it _felt_ normal.

Felix is distracted by a ladybird, for a moment. Changbin nudges him with his foot. “What do … boyfriends … even do?”

Felix blinks. He chews on his bottom lip intently, nose scrunched. An idea comes to him—he sneaks a glance at Changbin, and flushes. “Go on dates?” he offers, gingerly.

Changbin mirrors his blush.

“Oh. Yeah. Duh.”

The ladybird flutters away.

*

Felix opts for toffee popcorn. He buys Changbin sweet popcorn without asking, and Changbin glowers at him.

“Lemme guess,” Felix smirks. “You like to think of yourself as a … _salty_ popcorn dude?”

“Shut up.” Changbin flushes; his smile betrays him, but luckily only when Felix turns away.

They’re a bit late to the film, but it’s fine.

Felix looks cute today. And Changbin is wearing the clothes Felix picked out for him. And Felix’s smile is bright and beautiful.

*

Almost half an hour later, Changbin turns to ask Felix for some of his popcorn, only to find the boy’s skin resembling the colour of his hair.

Changbin frowns. “Felix?” he whispers. “You okay?”

“What?” Felix almost yells. “Of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be okay? I’m—”

“Lower your voice.” Changbin grits his teeth, annoyed at the few stares he spies from the corner of his eye and at the zombies on the screen that won’t shut up. He tucks his hand into Felix’s and tries to pull him up, but Felix refuses.

“What are you doing? We’re watching—”

“You’re not watching. And it’s a crap film. The main guy dies in the end.”

“Uncool, dude!” the man behind them whines, and Changbin rolls his eyes as he finally manages to tug Felix to his feet.

“We’re leaving,” he mutters, relieved that Felix doesn’t protest as he drags him out into the hallway. The door shuts behind them and Changbin stops, turning to Felix and folding his arms across his chest.

“How did you know the main guy dies?”

“I’ve watched it before. It isn’t that good. I thought you wanted to watch it, but clearly not.” He cocks a brow. “You were scared.”

Felix snorts, “Me? Scared?”

“Yes. You. Scared.” Changbin pinches the bridge of his nose. He tries not to focus on how adorable he finds his—fake—boyfriend for suggesting a horror film despite being terrified of them. He should’ve seen it coming, but decides to pity Felix and be a little frustrated, too, so it doesn’t happen again. “From now on, no horror films, and you tell me everything. No lying. Okay?”

Felix hangs his head.

He hugs him and it feels warm and comfortable: it’s more than difficult to let go.

*

Changbin’s sandwich is terrible. He tried to make it himself, since his mother’s restaurant is getting more popular these days so she’s barely at home to make him food. When Changbin eventually gets sick of ordering takeaway for breakfast, lunch and dinner, he considers trying to make food himself.

It’s a terrible decision. He should’ve known better.

Sincerely, he apologises to his taste buds.

There’s a knock at the front door—Changbin recognises its frantic unsteadiness. He almost chokes on his sandwich and nearly trips as he stumbles out of his seat.

Felix beams automatically when Changbin opens their door. “Hi! Are you busy today?”

“It’s a Saturday and you’re my only friend.”

Felix pouts. “The _gang_ would be sad to hear that.”

Changbin rolls his eyes.

His living room, he realises when Felix ventures inside, is much smaller than his neighbour’s. He attempts to mask his embarrassment, but Felix doesn’t seem to care. His smile never dimming, the thief makes himself comfortable on a cushion on the floor—out of Changbin’s mother’s nine cushions, he is quick to select the one with a huge smiley face printed on it. Changbin rolls his eyes as he sinks into his favourite—the black one.

(It’s becoming increasingly difficult to suppress smiles around Felix.)

“I brought this.” Felix shoves a book in Changbin’s face.

Reading the title, Changbin lets out his loudest groan. “Felix, _no_.”

“I think you mean, ‘Felix, _yes_ ’—”

“It’s a weekend and I have no homework.” Changbin crosses his arms. He glares at Felix. “ _Why_ would you give me _more_ work?”

“Because a hardworking man never rests!” Felix cries out with alarming enthusiasm. It startles Changbin, and clarifies that Felix does not intend on being rejected.

So he gives in.

*

“Kicking … the … l-leaves … in the … in the … a-a—”

_“Autumn.”_

“—autumn—autumn breeze.” Changbin releases a breath he didn’t realise he was holding. Maybe if he was breathing when he read that sentence, it wouldn’t have been so tricky.

He translates.

Felix nods. “Your pronunciation is good! It’s just some tricky words, but it’s fine. Now let’s move onto para—”

_“No,”_ Changbin moans. He collapses onto the ground, whining and writhing about like a toddler, but he doesn’t care. English is _frustrating_ and _boring_ —and, above all, he hates looking like the stupid one in front of Felix. He’s supposed to be the smart, sarcastic, self-centred star. And Felix is the cute, dumb sidekick who smiles all the time and nods with terrifyingly vigorous enthusiasm.

But right now, Changbin is the cute, dumb student. And Felix is … _mature_. Who knew Felix had it in him to be mature?

“Can we do this another time? I’m _tired_.”

“We’ll just try one paragraph. Please?” Felix pouts. And—oh, _no_. This isn’t just some regular pout. It isn’t just one of Felix’s pouts of protest, or distaste—except a pout with exactly one purpose.

Felix is trying to look _cute_. Not just cute, but adorable. His eyes are wide like the eyes of a puppy and his lips are puckered and his cheeks are—

_“Fine,”_ Changbin exhales, exasperated. He ducks his head down in a pathetic attempt to conceal his blazing cheeks. Why is his throat so dry? Why does it feel like sandpaper?

Changbin clears his throat and instantly regrets it. Grimacing, he gestures to the textbook, and Felix grins. “We’ll do it word by word,” he hums. Without warning, he leans closer to Changbin, and points a finger at the first word on the page. “ _It,”_ he reads, before moving his finger onto the next word. “ _Doesn’t. Matter. If. The. World. Is. A. Cold. Place_.”

Changbin’s eyes try to stay on the page.

They flicker upwards despite his efforts.

“Understand?” Felix chirps, looking up and catching Changbin’s stare. He holds it, bravely, and Changbin realises their noses are barely an inch apart.

Despite himself, he studies Felix’s face—preferring it to the textbook their knees share. Felix is doe-eyed, with irises of a warm, shy and mesmerising chocolate—coppery near the bottom. His nose is tiny (many of his features are, in fact, tiny, except his eyes and mouth that never stop spilling nonsense) and surrounding it: a sea of golden freckles. They’re dark, appearing like the product of a far too generous dosage of sunshine in one’s lifetime. His lips are permanently puckered, primrose pink.

Changbin thinks his gaze is fixed there for a bit too long.

“You understand?” Felix suddenly echoes, hesitant, round eyes darting.

For once, Changbin doesn’t blush when their eyes meet again.

*

Chan and Jisung arrive together at the group’s spot: shaded by trees, accompanied by two benches Woojin claimed by bribing a bunch of kids with some chicken. Changbin ignores Felix’s intent gaze, searching for his chopsticks in his bag. He realises he’s forgotten them at home, curses silently at himself, and raises his head—only to meet the sparkling eyes of Lee Minho.

His own bulge.

Minho chuckles. “What’s with the face? Forgot your chopsticks?” He leans back and calls out for Seungmin, who brandishes too many chopsticks to count, wrapped securely in ribbon. “Seungmin always carries spare ones, because these losers love forgetting everything. You get a pass on the ‘loser’ label, though, since it’s your first time.” Minho smiles. Changbin is transfixed.

Abruptly, a shock of pain races through his arm and he cries out. The boys stop to gawk at him, and then at Felix—the culprit. Felix’s grin is smeared with falseness that makes Changbin want to gag. “My elbow slipped,” he lies, completely unbothered. His eyes drill into Minho’s. “Thanks for lending Changbin the chopsticks.”

He turns towards Chan and Jisung before anyone can say a word. “Did Changbin tell you he’s really into music? None of you are in his year, so I figured you didn’t know.” His smile is bright, sunny and summery.

Changbin has never wanted to tear it off more.

*

“‘Jealous boyfriend’ wasn’t in the contract, Felix,” Changbin snarls on the way home. “Could you be any more obvious? I thought we agreed to be discreet.”

“I couldn’t care less if they figured us out,” Felix declares, not even daring to look at Changbin’s face.

Changbin scoffs, incredulous. “Are you kidding me? You’re being this childish? Don’t you remember why I told you not to tell anyone?”

“Yeah, yeah, because if Hyunjin—”

“Oh, hey, guys.”

The boys halt in their tracks.

Their heads slowly raise and eyes fix onto Hyunjin’s face at the same time.

“Hi,” Felix squeaks, sounding out of breath. His eyes dart to Changbin’s face, pupils quivering with panic.

Changbin inhales. “Hey, Hyunjin.”

“So you finally talked to 2RACHA, huh?” Hyunjin beams. “Proud of you, Changbinnie. I thought of introducing you to them from the moment Chan told me about them. They’re super cool, right?”

Changbin’s strained smile automatically plasters itself onto his face. “Totally,” he agrees, absentminded. “Super.”

*

_Hyunjin wins his first ever dance competition. It was obvious he was going to win from the moment he auditioned, because Hyunjin has been ‘dance competition worthy’ since a couple of months ago. Due to an odd lack of enthusiasm about dance, it took Changbin more than just a while to convince Hyunjin to sign up._

_Now that his best friend has won, Changbin clutches a wallet in his pocket, a wallet stuffed with money he’s saved for this very moment—ever since Hyunjin agreed to sign up. He inhales deeply, counts to five, and saunters onto the stage._

_An alarmingly large pack of tall, muscular yet bony boys cheer and pat Hyunjin on the back—Changbin fears they might lift him up into the air._

_He inhales again—his breathing’s a little shaky, this time—and pushes through the crowd, tapping Hyunjin on the shoulder._

_His best friend’s sweaty, glistening face shines as their eyes meet. “Binnie, I did it!” he cries out, engulfing his friend in a hug. The cheers around them surge into a roar, a terrifying one, which Changbin tries to reduce to simply a blur._

_Beaming, he opens his mouth to ask Hyunjin if he’d like to have dinner together tonight, to celebrate. It’s been a while since they’ve properly hung out._

_But before he can get the chance to ask him out, the whale opens its mouth and swallows Hyunjin whole again._

_His best friend vanishes and he’s left alone._

_Again._

*

“Changbin!”

The owner of the voice is Felix, without a doubt, but Changbin has no idea what he’s doing here, in Changbin’s mother’s restaurant, on a Sunday evening. Craning his neck, he spies Felix’s mother and sisters arriving also, and he suspects that his mother invited them.

_Great._

“Hi,” Changbin says, tautly. He tries a smile.

“Did you eat already?”

“A bit.”

“Are you full?”

Changbin frowns.

Felix’s mother chuckles.

“Sorry, Changbin. Felix really wants the two of you to go to the park for some reason.”

Changbin stares at Felix.

“It’s only a little walk away from the restaurant, so I thought you might wanna.” After quickly confirming his mother and sisters aren’t looking, Felix sends a wink in Changbin’s direction.

Changbin mimics gagging.

“Let the boy eat some more, Yongbok.” Felix’s mother rolls her eyes. “And you, too. Then you can—”

“Okay,” Felix chirps, scooping some of Changbin’s _ramyun_ into his own mouth. He gestures for Changbin to eat quickly, and Changbin obeys, stuffing a few handfuls into his mouth, before abruptly he’s being dragged outside by a babbling Felix:

“So I really didn’t wanna have an awkward dinner with my family because they’re awkward and I hate being in awkward situations so you should actually thank me for rescuing you like that I mean I’m just doing what good boyfriends do you know? Rescuing their boyfriend in need, all that stuff I’m on top of all of that man you’re so lucky also please _never_ call me Yongbok I told my mum not to say it in front of friends but she literally never listens to me also your mum’s restaurant is really nice! I can’t believe you never mentioned she has a— Ah, here we are.”

Changbin blinks rapidly, overwhelmed. He doesn’t know how much he understood just then, but he _did_ hear the last part, and so, obediently, he turns to observe what ‘here’ is.

‘Here’ is: a picnic spot. Just like everything that Felix does and is, it’s adorable. The mat is a little small ( _Did he pick out a small mat on purpose?_ Changbin thinks, cheeks threatening to flame; he hates himself for being so flustered all the time) but plain black. There’s a basket of rice cakes, some chocolate bars, a tissue box with a videogame design, Coca Colas that have definitely warmed up in the sun, plastic straws and some chopsticks. _I’m not sure we need chopsticks to eat chocolate bars,_ Changbin considers remarking, but he decides against it.

“You left these here?” he asks instead, raising a brow at Felix. Instinctively, the boy nods—oozing with his trademark enthusiasm. Changbin sighs. “You left these things with absolute certainty nobody was going to steal anything? Including your mobile phone?”

Felix flushes. “I, er … actually forgot my phone here. I wouldn’t have cared if they had stolen the other stuff.”

Involuntarily, Changbin rolls his eyes. “Great job. So this is why you didn’t let me eat much, back there?”

“Yep.” Felix settles onto the blanket, gesticulating to the food.

_“Things couples can do together—Number 14: Have a picnic.”_

Changbin chokes down a laugh. “You searched that up, or made another list?”

“Not important.” Felix beams.

“Well, I wasn’t gonna say it, but I’ll say it anyway. This isn’t really…” _This isn’t much of a meal,_ the sentence flashes brightly in his head, blinding him. He hesitates, then stops, again swallowing down the insult. He imagines Felix planning out the picnic, what he was going to bring, how he was going to convince Changbin to leave the restaurant and come here with him. His cheeks tinge with gratitude and fondness, and he sits without another word.

Felix’s smile widens. “I thought about making the rice cakes myself,” he announces, sitting beside Changbin. “But then I decided—I would rather make them with you.” His expression is almost shy.

Changbin snickers, “The last time we did that, it didn’t exactly end up a success.”

“But it was fun! And that’s what’s most important.” Felix reaches out for a rice cake and nibbles at it tentatively. Changbin is just about to silently fanboy about how cute Felix is (for the billionth time) when suddenly Felix begins violently choking, having stuffed the entire thing into his stupid mouth.

“Dumbass,” Changbin exhales, after striking him on the back a few times. “Your mouth may be big enough to spew nonsense all day, but you can’t force it to handle an entire rice cake.” He rolls his eyes.

“I wanted to impress you,” Felix murmurs, before jolting his head backwards so fast he nearly crashes into the bushes behind them. “Hey! And now I remembered what I was supposed to tell you!”

Changbin’s eyes narrow.

“Swim class started,” Felix publicises through a mouthful of rice cake and chocolate bar. (It’s gross yet, somehow, endearing? To an extent, anyway.) “The coach is nice. He yells a lot more than my coach back in Australia but he seemed a bit calmer when I did a few laps for him.” Felix smiles to himself. It’s a rare sight which Changbin cherishes—a small, private, genuine smile that expresses many emotions at once: all, of course, extremely tender. Felix lifts his head, then, and catches Changbin watching. Their cheeks pink simultaneously and they quickly detach their stares.

“The thing that … I wanted to ask—is, um, do you want to visit, sometime?”

Changbin blinks.

“It turns out they do that stuff here, too,” Felix goes on. “They let family and friends … uh … they let you visit. You sit behind a glass window and watch me be awesome.” The Felix Grin returns. “I’ll be all cool and swimming all fast and—”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” Changbin rolls his eyes. “I’ll come and watch, sure. See if you’re not just all talk, with that big mouth of yours.”

“Great!” Felix exclaims, taking a startling large bite out of his chocolate bar to celebrate. Changbin mentally prepares for another session of back-slapping, but thankfully, it’s not necessary.

They finish the chocolate bars and rice cakes and warm Coca Colas with a bit of conversation and a lot of amused smiles.

The sun is mild and pleasant, today.

*

Changbin’s getting sick of English lessons.

“Listen, I’m _fluent_ , now,” he endeavours to reassure his stubborn teacher. “I can speak better English than you!”

“You sound like an idiot.”

“Actually, my voice would have to be a lot deeper, like y— _ow_ , stop elbowing me!” Changbin whines.

Felix scoffs. “Today’s not even a proper lesson. It’s revision. I’ll read out sentences and you translate. Got it?”

Changbin nods. “Just that?”

“Yep, just—what are you doing?”

Changbin smirks, snuggling into Felix’s lap and admiring his plum of a boyfriend (his _fake_ boyfriend). He reaches up and pokes Felix’s nose, summoning a squeal. “Getting comfortable,” he answers, as nonchalantly as possible.

Truthfully, his heartbeat is racing.

But Felix doesn’t need to know that.

*

_“Does your nose get bigger every time you get angry?”_

_Changbin smacks Hyunjin’s hand away._

_“And I’m pretty sure you get shorter, too—”_

_“Can you just shut up for one second?” Changbin explodes._

_Hyunjin stares at him, blinking rapidly. Panicking, Changbin steps towards him, but Hyunjin only flinches, eyes glazed._

_“I’m sorry,” Changbin mutters. “You know why I’m—”_

_“It’s fine,” Hyunjin responds, tone breezy. Changbin’s eyes widen as his best friend turns and marches away from him. When he finally comes to his senses and breaks into a sprint to follow, silence and heartbreak are all that he finds._

*

Changbin gets along with 2RACHA better than he thought he would, and soon they start to regularly hang out, messing around with music and experimenting and chatting, too. It’s … really fun. Changbin never, ever would have expected it. He’s thankful— _beyond_ grateful, in fact—for Felix, who encouraged him to talk to these guys. And, also, he’s thankful for…

“Hey, Bin, Jisung and I have been discussing something lately,” Chan declares, smiling warmly, “and we wanted to hear your thoughts.”

Changbin blinks. “Um—huh? Really? What—”

“Well, y’know how I’m J.ONE in the studio, and he’s CB97,” Jisung explains, grinning, apparently too excited to let Changbin finish his sentence. “Well, we were thinking of giving you a name, too.”

Changbin’s still blinking. He thinks his eyelashes might fall off, at this rate. Plus, his heart’s beating—extremely fast. Faster than lightning, that’s for sure. His whole body is twitching and trembling. “But—but that—” he stutters, humiliating himself in such a glorious moment he never thought might come. “That would mean—”

“2RACHA … doesn’t sound quite as cool as 3RACHA, don’t ya think?” Jisung winks.

Changbin nearly screams with joy.

*

“Hey, you came!” Felix exclaims cheerfully, body golden and dripping wet, when he spots Changbin emerging from the observation room (or whatever the heck it’s called). The swimmer is only wearing a towel, covered in replicas of a frog meme.

Yet, it still makes Changbin blush hard all over. Despite himself, he stares a little too long at what he didn’t expect to see at all— _rock solid abs._ Literally, like rock. Did Felix live in a gym back in Australia? Changbin fights back a gasp, barely succeeding in hiding the flush drowning him.

“How was that?” Thank God Felix is oblivious.

“You are really good at swimming,” Changbin admits, struggling to distract himself.

Felix shrugs. “What can I say? I took classes for years. You can’t _not_ be good at swimming and win as many competitions as I have.” He’s smiling smugly, and Changbin hates it, but it seems like a good opportunity to attempt to distract himself.

“Are you bragging? That’s my job.”

“Oh yeah. Being shallow, _definitely_ your thing.” Felix winks.

Changbin tears his eyes away.

“Is this embarrassing?”

“Is what embarrassing?”

“You know.” Changbin has his back turned, but _oh_ , he can _hear_ the smirk in Felix’s voice, can almost taste his mischievous delight. His hands fist at his sides, and he inhales sharply as he hears Felix get—slowly—closer. When he speaks, his voice tickles Changbin’s neck, and his words make Changbin’s skin prickle: “Seeing your boyfriend … only in a towel—”

“ _Fake_ boyfriend.” Changbin’s voice is hoarse and loud and unsteady: laced with panic. He recoils from Felix and scans his surroundings, searching for anybody that might have heard.

Felix’s beam is still only full of mischief. Changbin tries to scold himself, _It’s only a joke. Stop being so embarrassed—it’s just a joke._

“I’m gonna change back into my clothes, cabbage,” Felix is calling over his shoulder as he ambles away, towards the changing rooms. “Don’t fall into the pool. I won’t be there to do my job and save you.”

_Yep, just a joke._ Changbin rolls his eyes.

His heart is hammering against his ribcage, and the sound of blood in his ears is deafening.

*

As if he hasn’t had enough of Felix for one day, Changbin’s dinner that evening is rudely interrupted by a blonde thief carrying a sleeping bag, a rucksack and a bright, guiltless grin. Changbin snorts at the sight.

His mother imitates Felix’s glee. “Changbin hasn’t had a sleepover in so long!” she informs the visitor, an avid fan of gossip, as always. Having finished her own dinner, she quickly vanishes into her room after wishing Felix a good night (and shooting Changbin a threatening glare).

Changbin gently places his chopsticks onto the table. He lifts his gaze to engage in a staring competition with Felix, which doesn’t last long before Felix tears his eyes away and blushes.

“My mum can’t hear us,” Changbin mutters, folding his arms and glowering. “A pair of fake boyfriends, having a sleepover. What were you th—”

“I was _thinking_ ,” Felix interrupts, grabbing Changbin’s chopsticks and stealing some of his dinner, “that it would be loads of fun. Don’t you agree?”

“Not really.” Felix’s golden body is still fresh—and agonisingly graphic—in Changbin’s mind.

To his dismay, Felix smirks, and Changbin realises maybe the thief isn’t as oblivious as he always assumes him to be. Astounded and suddenly apprehensive, Changbin fixes his gaze onto his dinner, which is practically finished. He clears his throat and dares a glance at Felix, whose smirk is still plastered onto his face, arrogant and victorious.

“So, what do you wanna do?” Changbin asks, hoarsely.

When Felix grabs his hand and drags him up to Changbin’s room, he wishes he never asked.

*

“I keep forgetting you don’t have a TV in your room,” Felix grumbles, wandering over to Changbin’s stash of CDs instead. Changbin sits on the carpet—deciding he’s not quite ready to sit on a bed with Felix in the same room, ‘fake’ boyfriend or not—and watches, quietly. Felix’s fascination with music intrigues him, and like everything about Changbin’s neighbour, it’s certainly very endearing.

He’s just about to ask Felix if he’s had dinner yet, when Felix jerks his head upwards abruptly and exclaims, “Oh, I forgot! You and Chan and Jisung—what’s happened? Has 2RACHA turned into 3RACHA yet?”

It sounds as though Felix was only joking, but when he notices that the smile on Changbin’s face takes up almost all of it, Felix gasps and simply explodes—like a balloon expanding and popping with the excitement and splendour of a firework. Billions of fireworks.

“It’s CB97, J.ONE and SPEARB now,” Changbin updates Felix, feeling slightly embarrassed about his name for a second, until his neighbour starts squeaking and squealing hysterically, punching the air with his fists. Without warning, he pounces onto Changbin and cheers wildly, only stopping when Changbin—in a hiss—reminds him they have neighbours, plus Changbin’s mother two doors away.

“Sorry,” Felix whispers, but his humungous grin refuses to leave his face, shimmering with pride and joy. “I’m so happy for you! You did it!”

“Of course I did it. I’m Seo—”

“You’re Seo Changbin, yes, we know.” Felix rolls his eyes and away from his fake boyfriend in the process. Drawing his knees up to his stomach, he points to the CDs and beams. “Your works might join these guys.”

“They will.” Changbin can’t help the massive grin occupying his entire face. He feels like a Felix. As if he wasn’t already the exact replica of his annoying, adorable neighbour, he starts to squeal, and Felix quickly joins in, and then when they’re both exhausted from screeching like fervent monkeys, they collapse beside each other, panting and smiling.

“I can’t wait to be a musician like you, Binnie,” Felix whispers, chest rising and falling.

Changbin watches. For a moment, he is reminded of Felix swimming, driving himself neatly and swiftly through the water like a bullet. He remembers Felix implying that music, rather than to become a professional swimmer, is his dream.

He purses his lips and sits up. Felix glances up at him inquisitively.

“Have you ever been to a music class?”

Felix flushes. He rolls onto his side, facing away from Changbin, presumably to conceal his expression. He explains to Changbin’s bed, “The only music lessons I got to experience were back when I was a kid. I didn’t pay much attention at first but when I was seven, we got a new teacher who was really nice. They made lessons super engaging and they liked me a lot, because I always tried my best.”

The image of a young, eager Felix makes Changbin crack a smile. In his mind, little ‘Yongbok’ doesn’t look very different to the Felix sitting beside him right now. In fact, he doesn’t act very different, either.

“I liked rapping.”

Changbin’s smile immediately broadens. “You rap, too?”

Felix giggles. “Obviously not as well as you. Anyway, I’ve always liked it. And singing as well—again, not as good as you. But then music lessons got cut,” he sighs, his tone much limper than his usual upbeat melody. “I was so upset that I marched into my favourite music teacher’s office that day to protest—to beg them to stay, to take me with them, to _do something_ —but they were all gone. Every single music teacher at the school. Well, I mean, I doubt there were more than three, but it was a—a tragedy.”

“Good word.”

“Thanks.” Felix rolls onto his back. He still refuses to look at Changbin’s face. “I went to a music festival when I was fourteen. And I met Chan there. He was with some other guys, apparently part-timers helping out with production and stuff. Chan was … amazing. He saw me watching and asked me about why I was there and I told him, I told him about music class being cut, and my mum making me pick boring classes at school, and forcing me to swim because I was good at it. He laughed at that, and I thought for a second he was making fun of me but he wasn’t. He said he understood. And then he gave me his number.

“We texted a little. I was too shy to initiate conversations, but then I finally got the guts to ask if we could meet up in person. I didn’t have the guts, however, to tell my mum about Chan, so I started sneaking out to meet him and his friends.”

Changbin laughs at that. Felix rolls onto his side to look up at him. “You were too much of a wuss to tell your mum about Chan but not enough of a wuss to sneak out?”

Felix confesses quietly, mouth barely moving: “I liked him.”

“Ah.”

Felix nods. “I liked him a lot, actually. I had had plenty of crushes before him but he was … different. Besides, I didn’t just sneak out to be with him—they helped at loads of gigs. Sometimes they told me to join them when they had rap battles for fun or messed around on the equipment they had, and it was so much fun. But then Chan told me he was moving here.” His bottom lip wobbles. “I was broken. I couldn’t believe it: the best thing that had ever happened to me was … he was going.

“I didn’t confess.”

“Of course you didn’t.”

“He probably knew. He told me, before he left, ‘Don’t be too sad, Felix. Don’t give up on music, or me. We’ll see each other again.’”

“Yep. Definitely knew. Too old for you, anyway.”

Felix lightly shoves his neighbour, eyes glued to his own lap. “You’re only two years younger than him,” he murmurs, and Changbin nearly chokes on air.

Despite Felix’s words, the brief silence that follows them isn’t at all uncomfortable. It hovers without drawing much attention to itself, soft and soothing, like a blanket over them. Changbin exhales.

“Felix,” he murmurs.

“Uh-huh?”

“Would you like it if I wrote a song for you?”

Felix blinks. As Changbin expected, his first instinct is to giggle. Then, betraying the neighbour’s expectations, a small, playful grin settles onto his face. “Of course, Binnie,” he hums, and closes his eyes.

“What kind of music do you listen to?”

Felix’s head jolts upwards, eyes fluttering open. Mouth slightly agape, he raises a finger to his bottom lip, and bites down on it. Changbin, not even ashamed anymore, watches intently.

“Can I look through your CDs?” Felix pipes up, finally, and Changbin—after a moment of feeling slightly startled—nods. Felix is pleased to receive approval. Swiftly, he crawls towards the stash, and scans each member of the pile, studiously. For the billionth time this evening, Changbin stares. He doesn’t stop to glance at the time, or to think about how sleepy he is, or to remind Felix he should set up his sleeping bag and they should both change soon. He forgets all of that; it’s almost impossible to remember.

“You have one of my favourites,” Felix notes at last, voice light but deep as usual—a lovely, delicate, calming sound. “Can we listen together?”

“Sure.” Changbin groans involuntarily as he gets to his feet. He takes the CD from Felix and ambles towards the CD player. Coldplay’s _Magic_ floods the room grandly and gracefully, and Changbin, recalling his English lessons with Felix, smiles. He listens silently for a little, hovering by the CD player and translating to himself, mouthing the words. When he finally remembers Felix behind him, he turns.

His shoulders sink.

Felix is curled up on Changbin’s bed, eyes shut, hand beneath his cheek, mouth partly open. His sleeping bag lies—neglected and dejected—a metre away, on the floor.

Changbin scoffs. He marches towards the bed, getting ready to push Felix onto the floor and wake him up to scold him—but, arriving at his destination, Changbin abruptly stops, and decides against waking Felix. He fell asleep by accident; it’s late, and not his fault. If it’s anybody’s fault, it’s Changbin’s for not reminding him of the time or his sleeping bag.

It’s practically become a habit—gazing down at Felix, with emotions Changbin struggles to name. Admiration, awe and affection: he succeeds in labelling those. He takes in the sight of Felix’s fluffy, soft curls, lowered lids, long eyelashes, freckles—barely visible in the dimness, but still just as pretty—and puckered lips. _You pout, even in your sleep,_ Changbin chuckles inwardly, and, after briefly hesitating, he sits on the edge of the bed.

Felix has, kindly, taken up barely a quarter of the bed. It’s almost as if he did it on purpose—left space for Changbin, slept there, Changbin’s not sure what. But he’s glad he doesn’t have to spend the night in a sleeping bag: hence, he takes the opportunity to quickly change into his pyjamas in the bathroom (he also evaluates Felix’s outfit and decides it’s comfortable enough to sleep in), before slipping into his bed and resting on his side, facing away from Felix.

Not even five seconds pass before Changbin loses control over his curiosity and rolls onto his other side. Clumsy as ever, he nearly tumbles right into Felix, stopping barely an inch away from his face. He thinks about the first English lesson, their noses almost touching, Felix’s face so close … like this.

He thinks of _Magic_ by Coldplay. When he emerged from the bathroom, it began playing a second time, thus he removed the CD. He considers undoing his actions, before flushing all over with shame and bewilderment and terror.

Wincing, he scoots back a bit, not quite ready to turn away from Felix’s peaceful, pretty face.

It doesn’t matter, anyway, because a minute later both boys are fast asleep.

*

Changbin wakes up to screaming.

He flings himself upwards and groans at the sight of Felix’s bulging eyes, blemished cheeks and mouth hanging open in a deafening yell. Without a second thought, Changbin covers his idiot neighbour’s mouth with one hand and whacks him with the other. It’s a mistake—Felix bites down, _hard_ , on Changbin’s flesh, and now it’s Changbin who yelps.

“It’s eight-fifteen in the morning, you dumbass. Do you plan on waking up the entire neighbourhood, or just me?” Changbin scowls, hitting Felix’s face with a pillow. He staggers out of bed and saunters towards the bathroom, wondering if this is Felix’s first time waking up in bed with a guy. He smirks when he finally realises what Felix assumed happened, shaking his head in disbelief.

Then he remembers his mother and his eyes widen.

*

“So we didn’t…?”

“No, Felix,” Changbin sighs, rubbing at his eyelids. “We did not. For the hundredth time, we. Did. Not.”

“Oh.” Felix shudders, presumably with relief. “Oh. Okay. And your—”

“My mum went to work. She texted about groceries, didn’t mention anything else.”

“Oh. Okay.”

They continue the journey to school in silence.

*

The group are playing 21 Truths. Jisung begged them not to play Truth or Dare, and so they collectively decided this was the second-best option.

Chan’s favourite member of 2RACHA is Changbin. (They all suspect he chooses Changbin to piss Jisung off, and it works—unsurprisingly.) He misses Australia and he would go back if he could.

Woojin prefers chicken to girls, and guys, and basically everyone.

Minho has three cats. He would rather date Jisung than one of his cats. (That was Jisung’s question for him.)

Jisung hates working at the café. He also states, to everyone’s amusement, that his ideal woman is ‘not a woman’.

Jeongin’s favourite person to talk on the phone to is Hyunjin. He ‘only cheats on tests when it’s necessary’.

Changbin’s favourite season is autumn.

Seungmin is most scared of Woojin. Hyunjin annoys him when he ‘overreacts’. 

Hyunjin and Felix get lucky.

*

The first thing Changbin notices about Felix is that he’s absolutely, ridiculous filthy—his jeans are ripped (and not in the fashionable way) and drenched in mud, and his hair is ornamented with twigs and leaves and resembles a nest.

But when Changbin attempts to interrogate him, Felix, at first, simply laughs, reaching up to pluck one copper-coloured leaf out from his frizzy curls.

Behind him, the sky is sapphire and the clouds are soft and sparse. The sun sheds its rays generously, dressing Felix’s nest of hair in a hazy glow, as though it were a halo.

Changbin swallows, ignoring his painful heartbeat.

Felix holds out a leaf, black like coal, and beautifully shaped—like a maple leaf.

Changbin stares at it, then at Felix.

Felix smiles. “You like collecting stuff,” he explains, giddily, an excited kid. “And you like autumn. I like autumn too. I didn’t mind—I went looking—took a while—”

“You went looking for what? A pretty leaf?”

Felix pauses; pinks. Changbin’s stomach tightens, and he looks away, hoping he didn’t sound … ungrateful.

Heart thudding in his fingers, he raises them and clutches at the leaf, removing it from Felix’s grasp and examining it. It’s certainly dark, interestingly appearing as though it were one of the remnants of a raging fire. It makes Changbin smile, when he realises how special the leaf really is. A survivor.

He holds it to his heart and makes Felix notice his smile, and his gratitude. “It’s amazing,” he nods.

Felix grins instinctively. “I’m glad you like it,” he admits, palpably relieved.

And then he slides his hand into Changbin’s, curling his fingers around Changbin’s fingers and the leaf.

*

Jeongin is sick and at home. Chan, Minho and Woojin are ordered to help out in some event all day. Jisung, Seungmin and Felix are taking part in the event.

Hyunjin is alone at the bench when Changbin arrives there at lunch. He grins at Changbin and points to a spot beside him. Changbin considers sitting opposite, instead; but his head throbs and he’s alone with Hwang Hyunjin and in no mood to protest. He reluctantly sits beside his ex-best friend and keeps his eyes ahead.

“So, Felix, huh?” Changbin feels Hyunjin smile—a lazy, lopsided, half-smile. He knows him too well.

Balling up his hands into fists, he looks away; refuses to answer.

“New neighbour?”

“Was it not obvious that time you saw us walking home together?” Changbin growls through clenched teeth.

Hyunjin blinks, surprised.

_Chill out, or this’ll be even more unbearable,_ a voice hisses in Changbin’s mind, but he chooses not to listen. He remembers Felix asking about why they didn’t text during the summer, remembers Hyunjin abruptly moving out, remembers how last year Hyunjin had no problem contacting Changbin whilst he was in summer school.

Rendering any endeavour to ‘chill out’ absolutely futile, Changbin turns to glare at Hyunjin and spit, “You moved out without telling me, you got a boyfriend all of a sudden and all of these new friends, and you bothered to contact me … twice? Five times, maximum. Why the heck did you do that?”

Hyunjin’s grip on his juice carton tightens, and a little bit of orange dribbles onto his veiny hand. He doesn’t seem to care, because his eyes are blank and glued onto Changbin’s red face.

“My mum…” he swallows, eyes glazed, suddenly. Changbin instantly recognises their glassiness and slips his hand into Hyunjin’s—freezes, only for a second, before forcing himself to relax. His best friend gulps and twitches. “My mum—she found out. About … you know. She was so—scary. Exactly like how I—”

“Deep breaths.” Changbin’s voice is low, his words automatic. They’re not at school anymore: they’re in Changbin’s bedroom, huddled on his bed, Hyunjin’s head in his neck with tears streaming down his face and long legs trembling and twitching violently. Again, involuntarily, Changbin’s grip tightens on Hyunjin’s hand, which has gone clammy.

Hyunjin gasps for air, face already soaked with tears. “She told me never to talk to you again. She took my phone away from me and we moved. When she gave me my phone back she told me to delete your number and I did, but I remembered you wrote it down when you first got it and I spent hours searching and I finally found it, but my mum—she was always there, always checking who I was talking to, so I could … I could barely…” Hyunjin sniffles. Changbin hugs him.

“She was horrified when she found out I liked you.”

Abruptly, Changbin stiffens.

*

_Changbin calls Hyunjin every day during the summer. It is part of his morning routine: to wake up, brush his teeth, and call during his breakfast. Every single time, he is told the owner’s phone is switched off. He inhales deeply, shuts his eyes and blinks back tears, and continues eating._

_One day he picks up._

_Almost immediately._

_Changbin nearly drops his plate. “Hello? Hello?” he splutters, blinking rapidly, breathing fast and heavily and with his eyes wide open. The tears start to spill down his cheeks; they burn his skin._

_“Changbin.” Hyunjin’s voice is a hoarse, limp, faint, desperate, strangled croak._

_Changbin grips his phone tightly and chokes down a sob. His mother is out and Felix hasn’t bothered him today … yet. “Hyunjin, are you alright? Where—”_

_“I’m sorry, Changbin.” Hyunjin is crying._

_Changbin is crying too, now. “Hyunjin—please—please, are you—”_

_“I miss you so much.”_

_“I miss—”_

_“I love you, Changbin. I love you so much.”_

_Hyunjin hangs up and Changbin screams._

*

“Seungmin … Seungmin told me he liked me first.” Hyunjin is staring at his fingers. “He confessed when I wasn’t sure about my feelings. Because of my mother I didn’t want to like boys anymore, I tried to get rid of my feelings for you as best as I could and when Seungmin told me he liked me I thought that would help. I forgot my mum didn’t—didn’t really have a problem with you, she just hated the fact her son was gay, and here I was, thinking my only goal was to get over a crush.

“Seungmin eventually found out and he was … well, he was obviously upset at first but he understood and he said he would talk to my mum.” Hyunjin’s voice quivers. Changbin’s eyes widen. “They talked for … hours. Seungmin told me it would be better if I didn’t listen so I hung out with Chan for a while and he distracted me, and then Seungmin came back after a few hours, and he said it would be difficult to talk to my mum for a while—but it—she—”

“It’s okay, now?” Changbin can’t help it. He doesn’t want to hear more, doesn’t want to respect Seungmin more than he does already, doesn’t want to feel sorry for Hyunjin when everything’s been resolved.

Hyunjin wipes his face messily with the back of his hand, and Changbin searches in his pocket for some tissue.

“Yes. Everything’s fine.”

“Good,” Changbin tells the tissue packet he pulls out.

Deciding he feels tired, he gets up to leave.

But before he can vanish, Hyunjin calls out behind him.

“Thank you for everything, Seo Changbin.”

Changbin’s heart thuds as he waves and staggers away.

*

“You’ll never guess what!” Felix hollers, crashing gracefully into Changbin’s room. “My mum came to visit during swim class today, and she said, ‘Wow, you’re really good at swimming, no wonder you have so many trophies,’ and I nodded and then she asked my swim coach and he said the same thing and then my mum said, ‘Didn’t you say you like music, too?’ and I said, ‘Yes,’ and then she said, ‘Maybe since you’ve been working so hard we could try entering you into music class as well’ and _she really said I could finally try entering into music class_! And—”

Felix pauses. He waves a hand in Changbin’s face.

Changbin’s wrenched abruptly out of his daze. “Oh, crap. Sorry, Felix—that’s great, seriously—”

“What’s going on?”

Felix is frowning.

Changbin’s head aches.

“Please, don’t—”

“No, tell me.” Felix sits beside Changbin on his bed, eyes fastened to the shorter boy’s gloomy face. “I’ve had a good day, but you clearly haven’t. It’s my job to—”

“It’s not your job to do anything.”

_“Actually,”_ Felix hums, snuggling up against Changbin’s side. Changbin groans and shakes his head, smiling slightly, despite himself. “Please tell me what’s going on.”

So Changbin tells him. He tells him everything, about Hyunjin liking him, about Hyunjin’s mother, about Seungmin and summer school and every detail he can remember until he’s sobbing too hard to say anything else. Felix’s arms wrap around him tightly and effortlessly, his embrace, like the first time they properly hugged, warm like chocolate and reassuring and safe like a blanket. Changbin weeps into his chest as Felix clutches onto him.

And in that moment, Changbin realises. His crush is gradually fading.

But his heartbreak is here to stay.

*

“You’re really damn persistent.”

“I know.”

“We talked an hour ago.”

“I know.” Felix’s tone is smug and guiltless; his grin cheery and shameless. “It’s one of my best traits.”

“That’s debatable.”

“Let me take you out to dinner, Changbin.”

Changbin’s eyes bulge out of their sockets. He forces down a squeak of surprise, eyelashes fluttering and eyes darting. He looks like an idiot—he looks like _Felix_. He’s been hanging out with him too much, he realises.

“I want to make you feel better.”

Changbin’s heart pounds. “You—you don’t have to do that,” he stammers, bashful and something else, but then Felix takes his hand and his eyes drop down and fasten themselves to the glorious, spectacular sight: his hand in Felix’s. His heart is racing, screaming, pulsing, throbbing, jolting back and forth with terrifyingly hostile force. He feels oddly light, as though he might float—or evaporate.

Felix’s hand is quivering, but his grasp is firm. Changbin melts.

“I’ll go out with you,” he whispers.

He looks Felix in the eye and they stare at each other for a while.

Their heartbeats pierce the air.

*

Changbin can’t remember the last time he spent so much time planning an outfit. He and Felix are just going out for dinner, that’s all—just to eat—but he’s been frozen in front of his wardrobe for the past twenty-five minutes and he’s starting to think this isn’t just a dinner … whatever that means.

When Felix starts knocking on the window, he panics and throws on the neatest clothes he can find.

It’s when Felix sniggers and—dressed in jeans and one of his T-shirts—points out that Changbin ‘looks like he’s been invited to a wedding’ that Changbin realises how much of a dumbass he really is.

*

_“Remind me again why you dragged me out with you to go shopping? And for belts, of all things?”_

_“We hang out too much at home,” Felix answers, briskly, busying himself with scanning the assortment of belts in front of him. “I wanted to spend some time together outside your room, for once. And as for belts—” He turns and folds his arms across his chest, pouting at Changbin._ _“Your belts are ugly. We need good clothes for this Step, attractive clothes, and you’ve got them but it’s just—ugh, your belts! They don’t suit your pretty face.”_

_His eyes bulge. Recalling his words, Felix’s face blanches for a moment, and then dresses itself in a very vibrant shade of scarlet._

_Changbin holds back his laughter. “Glad you know the truth.”_

_Felix punches him lightly in the arm, still blushing furiously. He grabs three belts and stalks away from Changbin, who can’t help himself any longer and guffaws hysterically at nothing._

*

“Wow, this place is kinda fancy, huh?”

“Emphasis on the ‘kind of’.” Felix smiles shyly. “I wanted to treat you but I’m still pretty much broke. And not very…”

“Fancy.”

“Nope.”

Changbin fiddles with his napkin. The air is muggy and suffocating, forcing him to tug at the collar of his shirt and wince, awfully uncomfortable. To say the atmosphere is awkward is an understatement.

He lets his eyes wander. Around him, he notices that everyone _is_ dressed as though they at a wedding, with suits and ties and evening gowns and faces caked in makeup. He barely manages to stifle a snort. Maybe Felix knew you’re supposed to dress formally when at a restaurant this elaborate, but he made them both underdress so it would feel more casual—less forced. Although Changbin does, to some extent, feel extremely uncomfortable, he appreciates Felix’s attempts, appreciates him quite a lot, and amid these thoughts he realises he’s staring at Felix across the table.

It’s become a habit—watching Felix, staring at him, letting his eyes drift over every feature on his face. It’s a habit Changbin realises he enjoys, because Felix is just so pleasant to look at, so damn attractive, glowing and beautiful even in just a T-shirt and jeans and with such a blinding dye job. Felix is so beautiful.

And he just can’t keep this all in. How can he, possibly, keep these thoughts locked up inside of his tiny body?

He takes in a deep breath, and is just about to tell Felix all of this, because screw bottling up your thoughts and feelings … when suddenly Hyunjin and Seungmin, of all the people, waltz right into the restaurant—at that very moment.

And Seungmin spots them.

*

“Hey, guys!”

Felix’s head jolts upwards rapidly, eyes wide as he stares at Seungmin, and then at Hyunjin. He blinks, and continues gawking at the two, eyes continuously darting between their faces.

Changbin kicks him under the table.

“Hey,” he greets them, through clenched teeth. He tries not to look at Hyunjin.

“Fancy seeing you two here. This your first time in this restaurant?”

“Actually,” Felix starts, slowly, awkwardly, “our first time in … any restaurant—together. Actually.” He laughs and it’s painfully nervous.

Seungmin doesn’t seem to notice—or care. “Cool. Ordered yet?”

“Nope.”

“Oh, great.” He beams. Changbin can’t stop himself—his eyes flicker towards Hyunjin, who he realises is watching him. Neither of them detach their quiet, steely gazes. “Would you mind if we joined you, then?” Seungmin is asking. He slips his hand into Hyunjin’s and all three other boys’ eyes fasten to the sight. “It’s our first time going out for dinner, too.”

Felix’s eyes, slowly, make their way back to Changbin’s. Changbin wishes he could just—be oblivious, again. Not make it obvious this isn’t something either of them, or Hyunjin, really want.

He clears his throat. “Not—not at all. Have a seat.”

“Thanks,” Seungmin chirps, and quickly sits to Felix’s left without another word.

Hyunjin hesitates. Then, he sits beside Changbin.

Seungmin doesn’t notice—or he doesn’t care.

“So, why are only the two of you here?” he asks, his expression peculiar.

Changbin shifts in his seat. “Felix—was feeling homesick,” he lies, nudging Felix again under the table when he notices his bewilderment. “I wanted to calm him down. And not overwhelm him.”

Seungmin blinks, rapidly. His lips part in a small ‘o’ and he glances around. “Ah. Oh.”

“We should leave you two alone, then,” Hyunjin mutters, the first words he’s uttered since he and Seungmin sat at their table.

Changbin doesn’t lift his eyes up from his napkin, but he can hear the fury in Felix’s voice clearly when he snaps, to everyone’s surprise, “So eager to leave? What, can’t bear to sit next to the boy you rejected?”

The response is silence, and three stunned stares. Changbin’s eyes are wide, and so are Seungmin’s. Hyunjin is stiff beside him.

Changbin tries to speak over his thundering heartbeat: “Felix—I—I’m sorry, he doesn’t—he doesn’t know what he’s talking—”

“I _do_ know what I’m talking about!” Felix is yelling now. The restaurant’s eyes are latched onto him, and his almost purple face, and dark, dim freckles. His eyes blaze as they land on Hyunjin. “I know what I’m talking about, and I know a brat when I see one!”

“Felix? What—what are you saying?” Seungmin stammers, head swivelling to stare ahead of him, brows furrowed. “Hyunjin? What is he—”

Felix’s chair scrapes against the floor, deafening and livid. He’s trembling.

“I’m leaving.”

Changbin frantically apologises, and runs after Felix, who storms out of the restaurant and slams the door shut behind him.

The air is freezing outside.

*

“What was that about, huh? What the hell were you thinking, you _dumb punk_?” Changbin screams, his tears blinding him.

Felix glares.

“Why the _hell_ —”

_“He hurt you!”_

Changbin steps back, into the wall of the alleyway. He gapes at Felix’s gushing tears, quivering and hunched shoulders, puckered lips. His legs sway, precariously unsteady.

Felix sniffles and chokes. “I hate him, Changbin,” he whispers, through tears. “I hate him so much. I can’t stand him and I can’t—I can’t help but hate him, I tried not to but I—I hate him because he hurt you, he still hurts you and he doesn’t even know—”

“It’s not his fault, Felix—”

_“I don’t like seeing you like this!”_

The scream slaps Changbin in the face. He loses his balance and nearly topples, clutching onto the wall behind him in a futile attempt to support himself.

Felix covers his face with his hands and sobs.

Changbin scowls and tugs Felix’s hands away.

“For God’s sake.” He sighs and pushes two hands through his hair, staring at Felix’s wet face. “God—can you … can you stop it, already, with the act? This is serious—”

“ _I’m_ serious.”

“Felix—”

_“It’s not an act!”_

Felix is running again. Changbin curses; he attempts to chase after him, only to trip over a can of Coke and land with an agonising crash. He pants heavily; raises his elbows to his face; stares at the blood. His jeans are ripped, too, knees smeared with crimson.

His eyes find the can and he grabs it and hurls it at the wall.

Felix is gone.

*

There is no knock on Changbin’s window that evening, or on Saturday, or Sunday. On Monday, Felix isn’t at school. On Tuesday, he arrives late, eyes down, and doesn’t speak more than a few words for the entire day.

He eventually resumes his sunny chatter, thanks to Chan, but it’s toned down—perhaps only Changbin can tell. He isn’t sure.

He misses Felix.

*

_“I’m curious. Have you ever tried these Steps on anybody, before?”_

_Felix freezes. The sight is hilarious—his bulging eyes, blanched skin, and tinged cheeks and ears. Changbin holds in a laugh as he returns his focus to the illustration on his ‘love letter’._

_“You don’t—need to know that.”_

_“I don’t, but I want to know.” He smiles, outwardly, by accident—and involuntarily, he confesses, “You’re really cute.”_

_Felix gawks at him. He mumbles something about the bathroom, almost tripping on his way out, and Changbin curses at himself for being so blunt and embarrassing._

_His illustration snickers up at him and he sighs._

*

_“Felix, do me a favour.”_

_“What is it?”_

_Changbin sips at his drink, then leans forwards, making sure nobody in the café can hear him hiss: “Don’t ever say the words ‘pick-up line’ to me again.”_

_Felix blinks. And then, to Changbin’s horror—but not really surprise—he sniggers. “No? Not allowed? Not ever?”_

_“Never. I mean it.”_

_“That’s a shame.” Felix pouts. He pokes Changbin’s nose and Changbin sighs, not even bothering to mask his scowl._

_“You’re lucky you’re cute.”_

_“I know.” Felix grins._

_Jisung arrives at the table with disinfectant; Changbin withdraws and Felix’s sniggering resumes._

*

_The sun is in a good mood today. It’s strong enough to allow Changbin and Felix to buy ice cream on the way home from school, but not too heavy so they aren’t dripping with sweat and the air is gentle and friendly. Felix licks at his strawberry ice lolly with amusing determination._

_Changbin nibbles at his cone. “So, how was your first week of school?”_

_“Great.” Felix smiles, so innocently happy it makes Changbin’s stomach knot painfully: he regrets choosing such a large ice cream. “Really fun. Class is bearable, I guess, but you guys are all so fun and nice. I feel at home.”_

_“You do?”_

_“Uh-huh.” Felix bites his ice lolly and pauses. There’s pink surrounding his lips and a little on his nose, which Changbin wishes he could wipe away—or take a picture of. Felix glances at Changbin, expression unclear. “Thank you for everything, Binnie.”_

_Changbin snorts, but his heart hurts. “For what?”_

_“I said, ‘Everything.’ Thanks for being there for me and … everything.”_

_Changbin nods. He drops his eyes down to his ice cream, watching some of it dribble down onto his finger. He doesn’t wipe it away. “I have to thank you, too,” he murmurs._

_“For what?”_

_Their eyes lock._

_“Everything.”_

*

_“Where were you, yesterday?”_

_The thief seems surprised to hear this question coming from Changbin. It takes him more than a few moments to respond. “I was at my aunt’s. It’s quite far from here. Why do you ask…?” He cocks his head to the side. “Did you miss me?_

_Changbin is embarrassed to admit, “Actually, I did. It’s really boring around here without you. I guess I’m getting too used to spending time with you.” He blushes, looking away._

_Felix sounds delighted. “How cute. You missed me, even though I make you write love letters you don’t wanna write and I distract you from doing your homework. Oh—” His lips curl into a mischievous smirk. “I bet that’s really why you missed hanging out with me…”_

_“Don’t, Felix,” Changbin warns, but they’re both grinning, anyway, and feeling pleasantly warm._

*

“Changbin, can I talk to you for a second?”

Chan tugs Changbin’s arm, lightly, eyes misty with something subdued but a little frightening.

Changbin clears his throat. He tells Minho he’ll talk some more about BTS later before rushing after Chan, who marches purposefully towards a spot in the trees, as far away from the group as possible.

*

“Okay, what’s the deal? Between you and Felix? Why are you guys ignoring each other?”

Changbin shifts his weight, from one foot to the other. He observes some trees in the distance, eyes slightly narrowed. His hands wring together, behind his back.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You know perfectly well what I’m talking about, Seo Changbin.” Chan—to Changbin’s amazement—is glaring at him.

Changbin stares harder.

“I’m not leaving you alone until you tell me what’s going—”

“It’s none of your business,” Changbin snaps.

Chan’s eyebrows shoot up. “Excuse me?”

“You don’t—”

“Did you guys fight?”

“I _said_ —”

“Changbin.” Chan’s eyes are narrowed and blazing. He folds his arms across his chest, foot tapping against the ground.

Changbin stays as still as he can manage—but he can sense the sturdiness of his legs rapidly vanishing.

Finally, Chan’s eyes soften. His tone, however, is still hard like stone, when he asks: “When you look at him, Changbin, what do you see?”

_This is ridiculous,_ Changbin scoffs inwardly, shaking his head, incredulous and exasperated. The trees in the distance shake with laughter, pointing fingers at him.

He shrugs, ignoring Chan’s expression of disappointed fury. “I don’t understand.”

“When you look at Felix, what do you see? Your ‘boyfriend’”—Changbin winces—“or your friend pretending to be your boyfriend?”

This time Changbin scoffs aloud. “What are you _talking_ about?”

“Answer me.”

“You’re not making any sense!”

“I am. You want to get over Hyunjin, you’re not doing a good job of it, and Felix is trying to help you, but his method isn’t just helping you get over your crush.”

“You’re not—”

“I’m making sense, and I’m trying to make _you_ see sense, goddammit, Changbin!” Chan grabs the boy’s shoulders and twists him around with surprisingly brute force, stabbing a finger at Felix, too far away to notice. Changbin swallows. “He got upset at you at the restaurant. He said it was because you’re getting yourself hurt, and he doesn’t like to see you like that. Why else?”

“How do you—”

“ _Why else_ , Changbin? Why else would he be upset?”

“I don’t know, I’m not a damn mind reader—”

_“Changbin.”_

Changbin stops; twists around. His eyes lock with Chan’s, dim and deeply troubled, glistening with rage and determination and something else. Changbin tries to understand it.

Chan repeats, softly: “‘It’s not an act.’ What did that mean, Changbin?”

Immediately, Changbin senses his mouth opening to spill out the words, _I don’t know._ But he clamps it shut—because he’s sick of not knowing.

His eyes drift to Felix again, who’s chattering away as normal but Changbin notices: his grin is damper than usual. It doesn’t shine as bright.

Changbin gulps. “I— Did he think we were really dating?”

“No, Changbin.”

“Then—” He struggles. A hand reaches into his mind and fumbles blindly, desperately, finding nothing in the infinite oblivion of his turbulent, perplexing thoughts. His eyes snap to Chan’s face, pleading, and Chan bites his lip.

“Okay. Let’s try—”

The bell cuts him off rudely and blaringly. Both boys grimace and stare at each other.

Chan, after a few moments of silence and stillness, simply sighs. “It’s okay. We’ll talk some more another time. After recording, when Jisung leaves. After school, today.” His words are sharp; it’s non-negotiable. “Don’t run off like a chicken, okay?”

Knowing he doesn’t have a choice, Changbin gulps and nods. “Okay.”

Chan smiles again. He nudges Changbin’s shoulder. “Good. See you, Changbin.”

And then he jogs towards the boys, who are making their way to class.

*

“I think we’ve nearly finished this baby,” Jisung is chattering, grinning excitedly whilst packing away.

Changbin attempts to replicate his smile. Sure, he’s sure as hell exited to finish their first project as 3RACHA—simply called _Intro_ —except something else has been preoccupying his mind since lunch. His eyes keep flitting towards the clock, and Chan’s face. Chan isn’t at all as bothered as he is: he carries on as normal, up until it’s time to leave the recording studio.

“Hey, Changbin and I just wanna go over something,” he informs Jisung, tone impressively casual. Changbin, on the other hand, can’t seem to cease his trembling.

Jisung nods. “’Kay. See you guys tomorrow.”

“See ya.”

Jisung unceremoniously thumps the door shut. Chan rolls his eyes, before turning to Changbin and gesturing towards one of the chairs.

Changbin swallows and sits.

“I want you to answer every question I ask you honestly. Is that clear, Changbin?” Before Changbin can answer, Chan leans forwards, eyes dark and almost menacing. “Felix means a lot to me, Changbin. When I left Australia, he didn’t have a phone and I couldn’t contact him for years. I never forgot him, always wondered if he was living his dreams of pursuing music when I wasn’t there. And of course I missed him—you know what he’s like, you’ve spent the entire summer together.”

He folds his arms across his chest and leans against the wall. “Felix has always trusted me. He tells me everything, to this day. He’s a real good kid. I never want him getting hurt. And he’s been pretty hurt over the last few days, because of something he didn’t even tell me, not until yesterday when I forced it outta him. I didn’t want to but I had no choice. Changbin, do you understand why I want to talk to you?”

Without hesitation, Changbin nods.

Chan smiles, apparently satisfied. “Okay. Changbin, what do you think and feel about Felix?”

Changbin stiffens.

Chan sighs. “Come on, Bin. You can trust me, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, then let’s try again. What do you feel about—”

“I like him.”

There’s a pause. It’s a long, reflective, tense pause which Changbin assumes should terrify him.

But he’s never felt so safe, relieved or overjoyed in his entire life.

Chan’s smile is huge this time. “That’s good,” he acknowledges, and pats Changbin’s shoulder. “Thank you for being honest with me.”

Changbin bolts out of the recording studio.

Chan doesn’t follow him.

*

“Oh, Changbin.” Felix’s mother beams, albeit with faint confusion painted onto her face. “What are you—”

“Is Felix free?” Changbin blurts, wishing he hadn’t interrupted her. He can’t help it—he’s more than desperate. He needs to talk to Felix, and it has to be now. “I’m sorry, it’s just … quite urgent. Do you mind?”

“Not at all.” Felix’s mother is only slightly ruffled. “Do you want to come in, or…?”

“Can you tell him to meet me in the park?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you,” Changbin exhales, and without even thinking he clasps her hands before practically staggering away from their door.

*

Felix is later than Changbin expected him to be. He trudges almost apprehensively towards Changbin, arms limp by his sides, eyes still dim. He bites his lip when he stops a few inches away, rubbing his neck.

“Is—everything okay?” he croaks, awkwardly.

“I want to talk.”

Silence. Not exactly what Changbin hoped for, but he did—certainly—expect it.

He inhales deeply. “I’m sorry about everything, Felix. I’m sorry I didn’t back you up in the restaurant, and I’m sorry I called you a ‘dumb punk’, and I’m sorry I screamed at you and … I’m sorry I didn’t think you were being serious. Please forgive me, Felix.” Squeezing his eyes shut, he bows.

Felix stammers, flustered, “No, stop—I—don’t bow, please, that’s just—awkward. Please—”

“Okay.” Changbin quickly straightens. He tries to joke, “I betrayed my pride for you,” but the clouds masking Felix’s face stay put. He swallows and struggles not to drop his head.

“Look, it was _so_ obvious you liked Hyunjin,” Felix suddenly explodes, eyes narrowed and desperate and furious. “It was so, so obvious, like man, you were so crap at hiding it, even a blind man could tell—”

Changbin scoffs. “Your point is?”

“My point is, he never noticed, and that _was_ his fault. That was his fault because when someone likes you, you’re supposed to be there for them, to accept them or reject them gently, and you _must_ acknowledge them. You have to acknowledge that person, especially when that person deserves nothing more than to be liked back and appreciated and—and I just can’t believe he never realised, can’t believe he missed out on someone like you who was right under his nose the whole time. Changbin, you are so funny, and kind, and talented and adorable and loyal and you sacrificed so much and you were always there for him. And yet he missed out, I can’t believe he missed out on liking you, like I like you.”

The silence is deafening. Changbin’s ears are ringing and it feels like his entire body has swelled and become a humungous balloon or a massive drum.

“I like you, Seo Changbin,” Felix is sobbing now, covering his face and repeating it into his palms, muffled but sincere—“I like you so much, I like—”

Changbin steps forwards. Carefully, this time, tentatively and with tremendously tender care, he peels Felix’s hands away from his face, and holds them. And then he lifts up a hand and wipes away Felix’s tears. And then he holds his face.

He kisses Felix only briefly, but it’s enough to make the lyrics of Coldplay’s _Magic_ flood his ears, enough to lift him up from the ground and into the sky dressed in all the colours of the rainbow and enough to convince him Felix is the blanket, the warmth, the boy he has needed since … a very long time ago. It took him a while to realise it, that’s for certain: but he’s here with him now, and Changbin has realised.

He’s crying but it’s the best kind of crying there is. It’s crying of joy and relief and love that can’t be expressed using words.

Felix hugs him and Changbin decides he never wants to leave his arms.

*

Of course, he has to leave eventually. It’s the most difficult choice he thinks he’s ever made, but it’s alright in the end when Felix slips his hand into his and grasps it tightly and kisses him on the cheek—shyly, quickly, spontaneously and excitedly—before turning away and dragging him home.

When they get to Changbin’s room they hug for a long time. _Magic_ plays over the scent of rice cakes that trickles into the room; and light spills generously—oozing from the sun outside, and the smiles on the boys’ faces.

The world is easily forgotten. It’s summer again and it’s only Changbin and Felix.

*

That is, until, Changbin awakes to screaming.

And it isn’t Felix.

*

Felix’s mother is talking to Changbin’s. Changbin thinks one of Felix’s sisters is here, too. Changbin’s mother is crying. Sometimes her voice raises a little but when it does Felix’s mother talks over her, sternly. Changbin doesn’t think he’s ever known someone brave enough to do that.

He winces as he is involuntarily reminded of the bruises on his skin.

He hugs himself and rocks back and forth on his bed, tears streaming down his face, thinking of Felix.

*

When the boys see each other again, they hesitate a little, but Felix’s mother is firm. “I’m happy for you two,” she informs them, with sincerity Changbin thinks he will never, ever forget—and will always appreciate. It’s definite Felix got his warmth from his mother.

Changbin’s mother is just as tentative as the boys, but she bows nonetheless. Her smile is, at first, seemingly forced; but her words are not. “I will support you two no matter what. I promise, and I apologise.”

“Thank you,” Felix practically whispers.

The two mothers smile.

Felix’s mother clears her throat. She clasps her hands together and, for the first time in Changbin’s life, he witnesses her appearing extremely, painfully awkward. And the moment she begins to explain, it quickly becomes clear why: “However, there are some issues we need to discuss, including the problem of you two visiting each other’s rooms so often—”

Felix chokes; Changbin reddens.

The talk goes on for far longer than both expected or wanted, and it’s terribly agonising—for all four of them. As soon as it’s over, each deflate with considerable relief.

Changbin and Felix agree never to close their bedroom doors. (“Did they forget how old we are?” Changbin wonders, a few hours later, his voice a disgruntled mutter. Felix blushes at the implications and chooses not to respond.) Changbin’s mother apologises again. Felix’s sisters are elated, especially Olivia.

“You bought flowers together,” she coos, grinning the Lee Grin (since it runs in the family, Changbin opts for this new name as opposed to giving Felix all the credit) and making both boys flush at the memory.

When everyone leaves, the boys hug again, and Changbin tries not to cry.

“I’m kind of dreading the boys’ reaction—but excited at the same time,” Felix confesses, wringing his hands together.

Changbin agrees.

*

When Changbin and Felix walk into school holding hands, the boys spot them and erupt into a wild cheer. It’s an overexaggerated, very uncalled for response, which renders both boys overwhelmed and embarrassed and awkward. But they smile, impulsively, and accept their fate without complaint.

Chan sighs, “Alright, that’s enough, boys. This your first time seeing two kids holding hands or what?” He slaps Changbin on the back. “Glad you came to your senses, Bin,” he winks, and then Felix runs into Chan’s arms and they hug tightly for a second.

Jeongin beams at Changbin. “You two are cute,” he admits, timidly, and Changbin blushes.

“I guess.”

“You guys screwed yet?”

Woojin smacks Jisung’s head.

Seungmin and Hyunjin are nowhere to be seen.

*

“So now that we’ve broken our ‘no dating friends rule’,” Jisung pipes up at lunch, discarding his sandwich as he addresses the group, “can I date Minho?”

Minho shoves him, albeit a little playfully. His cheeks are red; it’s the first time Changbin has ever seen him so mortified. “Don’t be an asshole, I’m the one who gets to decide that.”

Jisung smirks. He turns to him and bats his eyelashes. “Date me?”

“Sure.”

The boys burst into laughter at Jisung’s stunned—and thrilled—expression.

Seungmin and Hyunjin finally arrive. “Hyunjin wasn’t feeling too well this morning,” Seungmin explains, and then both boys’ eyes latch onto Changbin, in Felix’s arms.

There’s a brief pause.

And then, to everyone’s surprise, Hyunjin exclaims: “I _knew_ there was something going on between you two!” He practically leaps into the air. “What did I tell you guys?” Triumphantly beaming, he puffs out his chest. “I am _so_ perceptive.”

Changbin bites down a laugh. “You sure are,” Felix snorts, a snigger hidden in his words.

The boys forget Felix and Changbin at last and they hold hands quietly, Changbin’s head on Felix’s shoulder. “They’re so loud,” he mumbles into Felix’s neck, accidentally startling him.

“We should have a picnic after school,” Felix suggests, and Changbin groans.

“Another one?”

“I made rice cakes with my mum’s help.”

And just like that, Changbin is swayed.

*

“I have a question.”

“Hm?”

Changbin hesitates. “If … Seungmin and Hyunjin hadn’t dated over the summer—maybe if they hadn’t even met … do you think the tips you gave me, on, like, ‘how to make Hyunjin like me’—do you think they might’ve worked?”

Felix giggles. Abruptly, his giggling morphs into explosive cackling, booming laughter, and Changbin has to roll his eyes and wait for the tears to stop pouring and for Felix to stop hooting and clutching his tummy for an eventual response.

“You done?”

Wiping away tears, Felix nods. “Of course that rubbish wouldn’t’ve worked. Well, maybe you could’ve won him over with your own ‘charm’— _ow_ , that hurt—”

“Don’t make quotation marks next time, then.”

“—but those ‘tips’ wouldn’t have contributed at all.”

Changbin scoffs. “So you were messing with me?” He plucks a leaf out of Felix’s hair.

Much to his surprise, the question is pursued by silence. Slightly stiff, almost awkward—extremely bashful. Felix struggles to meet his eyes. “I—I didn’t … Well, messing with you was fun, but I really just wanted an excuse to spend time with you. And make you do cute things with me.” His smile is strained, humiliated, ashamed.

Changbin kisses him. “As shallow as that sounds, I guess it was kinda fun. And it’s over now.” He smiles. “You can do all that stuff for real with me now.”

The Lee Grin replaces Felix’s awkward smile in a flash. Without thinking, Changbin kisses him again.

“You’re obsessed with me, Seo Changbin.”

“I know.”

“Are we dating for real now?”

“Of course we are.”

Felix snuggles into his side. “It feels almost the same. Just with more touching.”

“Gross.”

“Definitely.”

The sun laughs with them, and the trees shelter them from the world.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you guys enjoyed! please leave a comment and tell me what you guys think, i'd love to see if any of you enjoyed this :3


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